kenya: um...

So, dear readers, where did I last leave you hanging? Ah, that's right. I missed my flight.

Yes, yes, I know. That was careless of me. Good thing my heavenly Father is careful an full of care, no?

I'm not going to recount what it was like, being put on standby for the next flight to New York and waiting around. It was what I needed though, because I literally got to sit and wait, which I am actually sort of very awful at. But I sat and waited, and prayed because I felt tired already. At first I prayed I would get on the flight, but then I stopped myself there. Because when God promises you something, He never fails on that, right?

He promised me Kenya, and of course I would get there. He just didn't promise He would follow my (flight) itinerary. So I sat in those nasty airport chairs, my hands clasped in my lap, holding onto His promises. I stared at the screen outside my terminal, which showed the status of all the passengers on standby. They couldn't even fit my whole name, so I was staring at the letters, "POO/ D," trying not to laugh at myself and also trying not to sink into despondency every time I saw "POO."

And yes, I made it to NY to meet my teammates eventually. I was not fully aware, though, how those hours in LAX were actually quite telling of the next seven weeks--seven weeks when my itinerary was immaterial, when I had to trust He would pull me through, when I had to wait on Him, and when He--always good and kind to me--would endeavor to make me laugh in whatever situation I found myself in.