Kansas City Chronicles - Day 2 (last flight to Glory-land)
So after noting my thoughts on the "peace that surpasses understanding" that I was experiencing, we made a quick layover in Denver for an hour, boarded the plane again...and then heard sirens going off. "Exit the plane as quickly as possible," we heard a voice over the loud speaker say - "there's a tornado coming."
Now, I am a California boy, born and raised, and I don't know anything about tornadoes. I don't know if these sirens are a big deal or not. But the hurried pace of the other passengers and the cutting noise of the sirens themselves didn't cause me to imagine best case scenarios. My already erratic heartbeat shot up to a machine gun pace, and I filed out of the aircraft as obediently and quickly as possible, trying desperately to keep my cool. Hey, what happened to that "canopy of grace" that I was peacefully flying over a few minutes ago without a care in the world?
With visuals of being stuck in Denver for days and sleeping outside of the Quizno's next to terminal 71A with all of my sleep supplements strewn about me running through my mind, I looked for a place to sit down and rest. I sent a couple of text messages out, trying not to sound as dramatic as I felt about the situation. Thankfully, the delay only lasted a couple of hours. Apparently, the tornado passed by with no lasting consequences for my journey to "glory-land" (Naomi's new title for the International House of Prayer). We filed back on board. The time was about 11pm.
I took my place next to the window, two seats away from a young girl with a shaved head. There was no one in the seat between us, so I leaned over and began to make conversation with her. "You pull that off really well - you know, the shaved head." That's actually the first thing I said, but now as I sit here writing this, I am thinking I could have warmed up to that comment after a little while. Thankfully, though, she wasn't embarrassed. She just smiled and said that it takes a confident woman to pull it off. Hmmm. Testing this alleged confidence of hers, I then asked if she got a lot of G.I. Jane comments. Unflinchingly, she went on to say that she did and that she was glad. Demi Moore is hot, she explained.
Well, despite my weariness, and despite the brain fog from the Lyme that can make social situations rather embarrassing from time to time, I went on to talk with this fascinating young woman for the next hour of the flight. Arie (pronounced like the letter "R" then the letter "E" - Aree) is 21, fluent in Spanish, learning Arabic, and wants to go on to learn several more languages. She is, in fact, obsessed with languages. She shaved her head in honor of a friend that was battling Leukemia who eventually died, but kept it because she loved the way it looked and felt. She grew up Methodist but doesn't believe in God anymore. In her words, she discovered other philosophies of life that made more sense to her than religion.
I think that, in turn, she was fascinated with me. When I told her that I was flying out to a ministry in Kansas City to get prayer for healing, her eyebrows raised. When I told her that miracles had been happening there for months now on a pretty regular basis, she commented on the power of positive thinking. "Positive thinking is cool," I said, "but I believe in a God that does miracles; miracles that accomplish what no positive mind frame could do." Then I told her the story of my relationship with Jesus.
I told her about the childhood faith, the boredom with the church and religion, and the eventual backslide into selfish ambitions and lusts of all sort. And I told her about my reunion with vibrant faith when, on another trip to Kansas City seven years ago, I had an encounter with Jesus Christ. An encountered that steered the direction of my life away from the emptiness of this world into the beauty and love of God Himself, at whatever cost. I told her that I wasn't studying the Bible in college because I wanted more knowledge or to become more religious; I could care less about that. I wanted one thing - to know the Man with eyes of fire that I saw so long ago, the One who had ruined my heart forever with His love. "It's about relationship," I explained (at this point she looked intensely interested in what I was saying). "Relationship with Jesus, and relationship with other people. That's what Christianity is all about." I told her about the Apostle Paul's encounter with God on the road to Damascus that instantly changed him from a murderer to a saint. "Jesus Christ is alive," I said, "and He is still showing Himself to people today. That's why I am here."
I didn't realize how excited I had gotten while I was talking about Jesus, but I suddenly got very tired and out of breath. I think she was affected by that more than anything else - the change in my countenance as I began to talk about the One that I loved so dearly. In response, she simply said, "Well...its obvious you are passionate about that. It's good to be passionate." The conversation ended, and I rested for the duration of the flight. After we landed, we waited for our luggage together and chatted a little more. Before my friend Daniel arrived to pick me up, she looked at me and said, "Hey - I hope you get healed. Sincerely."
Awww, thanks Arie. I think I made a new friend.
Now, I am a California boy, born and raised, and I don't know anything about tornadoes. I don't know if these sirens are a big deal or not. But the hurried pace of the other passengers and the cutting noise of the sirens themselves didn't cause me to imagine best case scenarios. My already erratic heartbeat shot up to a machine gun pace, and I filed out of the aircraft as obediently and quickly as possible, trying desperately to keep my cool. Hey, what happened to that "canopy of grace" that I was peacefully flying over a few minutes ago without a care in the world?
With visuals of being stuck in Denver for days and sleeping outside of the Quizno's next to terminal 71A with all of my sleep supplements strewn about me running through my mind, I looked for a place to sit down and rest. I sent a couple of text messages out, trying not to sound as dramatic as I felt about the situation. Thankfully, the delay only lasted a couple of hours. Apparently, the tornado passed by with no lasting consequences for my journey to "glory-land" (Naomi's new title for the International House of Prayer). We filed back on board. The time was about 11pm.
I took my place next to the window, two seats away from a young girl with a shaved head. There was no one in the seat between us, so I leaned over and began to make conversation with her. "You pull that off really well - you know, the shaved head." That's actually the first thing I said, but now as I sit here writing this, I am thinking I could have warmed up to that comment after a little while. Thankfully, though, she wasn't embarrassed. She just smiled and said that it takes a confident woman to pull it off. Hmmm. Testing this alleged confidence of hers, I then asked if she got a lot of G.I. Jane comments. Unflinchingly, she went on to say that she did and that she was glad. Demi Moore is hot, she explained.
Well, despite my weariness, and despite the brain fog from the Lyme that can make social situations rather embarrassing from time to time, I went on to talk with this fascinating young woman for the next hour of the flight. Arie (pronounced like the letter "R" then the letter "E" - Aree) is 21, fluent in Spanish, learning Arabic, and wants to go on to learn several more languages. She is, in fact, obsessed with languages. She shaved her head in honor of a friend that was battling Leukemia who eventually died, but kept it because she loved the way it looked and felt. She grew up Methodist but doesn't believe in God anymore. In her words, she discovered other philosophies of life that made more sense to her than religion.
I think that, in turn, she was fascinated with me. When I told her that I was flying out to a ministry in Kansas City to get prayer for healing, her eyebrows raised. When I told her that miracles had been happening there for months now on a pretty regular basis, she commented on the power of positive thinking. "Positive thinking is cool," I said, "but I believe in a God that does miracles; miracles that accomplish what no positive mind frame could do." Then I told her the story of my relationship with Jesus.
I told her about the childhood faith, the boredom with the church and religion, and the eventual backslide into selfish ambitions and lusts of all sort. And I told her about my reunion with vibrant faith when, on another trip to Kansas City seven years ago, I had an encounter with Jesus Christ. An encountered that steered the direction of my life away from the emptiness of this world into the beauty and love of God Himself, at whatever cost. I told her that I wasn't studying the Bible in college because I wanted more knowledge or to become more religious; I could care less about that. I wanted one thing - to know the Man with eyes of fire that I saw so long ago, the One who had ruined my heart forever with His love. "It's about relationship," I explained (at this point she looked intensely interested in what I was saying). "Relationship with Jesus, and relationship with other people. That's what Christianity is all about." I told her about the Apostle Paul's encounter with God on the road to Damascus that instantly changed him from a murderer to a saint. "Jesus Christ is alive," I said, "and He is still showing Himself to people today. That's why I am here."
I didn't realize how excited I had gotten while I was talking about Jesus, but I suddenly got very tired and out of breath. I think she was affected by that more than anything else - the change in my countenance as I began to talk about the One that I loved so dearly. In response, she simply said, "Well...its obvious you are passionate about that. It's good to be passionate." The conversation ended, and I rested for the duration of the flight. After we landed, we waited for our luggage together and chatted a little more. Before my friend Daniel arrived to pick me up, she looked at me and said, "Hey - I hope you get healed. Sincerely."
Awww, thanks Arie. I think I made a new friend.
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