Lost Luggage

The flight from Nashville to Chicago is a mere 1-hour and 20-minute jaunt. Basically, the plane reaches its altitude, the flight attendants pass out peanuts and serve tiny beverages, and then the descent starts. Voilà! Flight over, destination reached.

Well, the trip home for spring break was not so idyllic. Far from being a direct flight, I switched planes in Ohio and had a layover. When I booked the trip, I knew it wasn't a nonstop. But it was less expensive than the other flights. (Now I know why.) So what could have been traversed in 2 hours became an expedition lasting 7 hours.

Anyway, when I reached Midway in Chicago, my luggage did not get off the plane safely like I did. In fact, it never came at all. Apparently, when I walked through the airport to get on the next plane, my suitcase did not follow my lead. It went over to Los Angeles instead. I headed home from the airport, my luggage on the other side of the nation.

Of course, this made me a tad bit stressed. The idea of getting ready for church without anything but the jeans and T-shirt I was wearing bothered me. Knowing I would be leaving the house on Sunday morning without an ounce of makeup was slightly less than comforting.

At 1 in the morning that night, I got a call from the airport saying my bag had arrived, and they would deliver it to the house. At 4 in the morning, I got a call that the delivery guy was at my house with my luggage. I woke up my brother (so I wouldn't have to answer the door at 4 in the morning by myself) and the delivery man saw a shocking manifestation of the word bedhead.

Once the delivery man left, my brother and I had a great conversation, since we both happened to be awake. And the next morning (or rather, that morning), I had my luggage all restored to me.

The moral of the story is: patience. Honestly, patience was a theme through my week of break. When the great question marks of life loom overhead, I don't want to wait on God. Questions like: Where will we live? What will I do? How will God provide? all seem too big to be entrusted to anyone... even the Lord. I tend to get restless, and want to know a detailed 5-year plan with a to-do list each step of the way. But a lot of times, God calls us to wait on Him. In the end, He has all the details planned out perfectly. I would have missed a meaningful conversation and the memory of an adventure if my luggage popped out with everyone else's upon arrival. God uses little things to teach big life lessons. Over spring break, He used lost luggage and a 4 a.m. delivery to teach me a little more about the importance of waiting for His timing.