I sat staring out the plane's tiny window into the darkness. I'm not sure if it was the uneven rhythm of my breathing or the closed air vent above me that caused the air to be so thick. My eyes darted quickly about the plane for exit signs and the strangers seated around me. Even with my short legs I was grateful for a bulkhead seat. A tall man with perfect splashes of gray at his temples took a seat in the isle across from me. His long and lanky legs barely missed the wall in front of him. I looked down at my own legs and felt a sense of guilt; as if I had stolen a covetous seat from someone much more deserving.
As the last few passengers filed past, a young mother with a little girl stood looking for their seats. The lines of her brow didn't seem to match her age. She looked my way and I offered a halfhearted smile, trying to mask my own insecurity. As if frightened that I may look into her eyes, she looked away and continued down the long narrow isle. After a few moments the flight attendant began speaking over the intercom. I focused on her explanation of what to do in case of lowered air pressure or a crash over water. She pointed to each exit and the instructions on how to open the door in case of an emergency. Though her smile was friendly it didn't calm the stirring inside of me. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, I felt a bit dizzy. Glancing at the empty seats next to me I was relieved. Conversation or small talk was not on my agenda, especially so early in the morning. I needed space. Space to think, to pray, and to consider the magnitude of the journey ahead of me. I needed space to breathe. Breathe, breathe. I inhaled deeply as the plane began to ascend. And as I closed my eyes I clutched the seat tighter and began to silently pray.
Once we reached the desired altitude and began leveling out I opened my eyes and looked toward the tall man in the next isle. He held a newspaper to his face and was studying one of the headlines. I wondered about his story? Where was he going and where was he from? He looked calm and appeared to be a frequent traveler. Business or pleasure, I wondered? Business, definitely business. The young woman next to him appeared to be asleep, but maybe she too was praying, who knows? Her long blonde hair was in a pony tail, and she donned a ISU sweat shirt, jeans and a pair of UGGs. What took her out of class so early in the semester? Even with my own attempts to focus elsewhere, an unnerving restlessness continued to hover over me. As I reached for a piece of gum and the over priced book that I had purchased before boarding a baby began crying a few rows behind me. Poor thing, I thought to myself, his ears are probably bothering him. I hoped the book would be a welcomed distraction from the unending stream of thoughts that had plagued me for weeks.
After ten minutes I realized I had read the same 5 sentences over and over again. I had no idea what I had just read. The racing thoughts demanded my attention and soon my focus was directed onto the visit awaiting me. Something deep inside of me gave a strong impression that I was on a “Holy” trip; that somehow this was going to be more than a visit with my dying sister. My palms were damp and my fingers felt icy, reminding me of the fear I had been trying desperately to ignore since making the reservations. Not only my fear of flying but an even greater fear of knowing I would be seeing my sister for the very last time. I didn't want to make the trip. I wanted to ignore her invitation and pretend it all away. But I couldn't, I wouldn't. And while it would be our last time together, it would also our first time alone together in over ten years. Both insecurity and anxiety poured over me. How was I going to bare this, saying Hello and goodbye all in the same trip? Life had been unfair, it had robbed us of precious time, opportunities to make memories as adults, memories I would always cherish if I had been given the opportunity.
I shifted in my seat, leaning closer to the window gasping at the beauty of the sunrise. A slice of brilliant orange was scarcely peeking over an unending layer of lavender clouds. Yellow fingers of light shot up, filling the whole sky with an awareness of something or someone much greater than mankind. And as I studied the wonder of it all, I wondered how many sunrises my sister had left.
Our recent few phone conversations and Facebook chats played over and over again in my mind. Even the humming of the plane's engine could not drown out the memory of her words on that day four years prior. Six years had passed with only two or three phone calls from her, usually an attempt for money or something else she needed at the moment. That particular call caught me off guard. For years, in my own attempt to protect my heart, I expected to never hear from her again. Drugs have a way of stealing dreams, hopes and relationships. But here she was on the other end of the phone, her voice stoic and somewhat formal.
“Lori, it's Susan. How are you? Well, I'm calling because I wanted to let you know that I have Breast Cancer. . .” Her words raced on but I didn't hear a thing. With each word she spoke my legs became heavier. I listened and assured her I would be there for her as much as I could. I hung up the phone still stunned. It wasn't suppose to be this way, I thought. And yet something inside of me told me this was the providential hand of God.
It would take a diagnosis of Breast Cancer to reunite us after so many years. And as I sat alone on the plane contemplating how the conversations may go, old dormant hurt feelings were trying to resurface. Would we finally be able to clear the air? I had become proficient in glossing over the elephant in the room but could true reconciliation take place like that? Would she finally open up and let me into her world, as dark as it had been? Her world of addiction, heartache, and lies? Even with all the hurt, I still had a deep love for my older sister. Even with all her poor choices I still looked up to her, adored her. I stood at a crossroad wondering if I could ever fully express to her all my hurt while still conveying my love. Or would I once again tiptoe around it all without saying a word? Was I suppose to act as though nothing had happened? Was I suppose to skirt around all the questions of how she'd lived all these years? More importantly, I wondered if she could ever come to realize that her feelings of being a black sheep were merely lies she had told herself? Lies that directed many of her steps throughout her life. Could she come to understand how much she was truly loved, not only by me but by God? Could she see that it was time for her to stop her running, even at death's door? And if the conversation allowed for such things, could I do what was called of me and share with her all that laid upon my heart; would I have the words?
As the minutes skipped by, a new pain pulsated at the importance of our visit, this final journey to say good-bye; to share so much that had laid hidden for so long. Memories began washing over me, like a bittersweet balm. Tears stung hot and freely ran down my cheek. A lump formed deep within my throat. and I no longer cared who sat around me. I no longer worried who may see the tears, I let them run freely. I grabbed a tissue and in the next few moments as I sat watching the sun rise somehow there was a sudden awareness of God's presence with me. I was not to do this alone. This was not about me or about her, it was about Him. As clear as day, and yet inaudible, I felt him say, “Fear not, for I am with you. Fear NOT, I go before you. Your journey will not be an easy one, but I will be with you. Do not be afraid.” And in that moment I knew God was on a mission and I was privileged to be part of it. Little did I know that the journey He spoke of was not simply the few days spent with my sister, but one far longer than I could have ever imagined.
And so that was the beginning of a new chapter on my journey, one that opened secret places I didn't even know existed. . .
Currently I am attempting to put to words this adventure in which I find myself. It seems I am on a treasure hunt with God leading the way. I don't promise to have all the answers in this life, nor to write a happily ever after fairy tale. Instead I will write about a true story, my story; one with honest struggles, fears, hopes and even in the darkest moments, faith. In the end I KNOW I will have my Happily Ever After. Yet it is on this journey, living in the here and now, that I find can be the most interesting, the moments when God reveals himself when we least expect it. Feel free to tag along with me as I share the secret places of my heart, my life and my struggles along the way. And I hope that in some small way it will bless those who have decided to come along for the ride.
~Lori
To be continued. . .
After ten minutes I realized I had read the same 5 sentences over and over again. I had no idea what I had just read. The racing thoughts demanded my attention and soon my focus was directed onto the visit awaiting me. Something deep inside of me gave a strong impression that I was on a “Holy” trip; that somehow this was going to be more than a visit with my dying sister. My palms were damp and my fingers felt icy, reminding me of the fear I had been trying desperately to ignore since making the reservations. Not only my fear of flying but an even greater fear of knowing I would be seeing my sister for the very last time. I didn't want to make the trip. I wanted to ignore her invitation and pretend it all away. But I couldn't, I wouldn't. And while it would be our last time together, it would also our first time alone together in over ten years. Both insecurity and anxiety poured over me. How was I going to bare this, saying Hello and goodbye all in the same trip? Life had been unfair, it had robbed us of precious time, opportunities to make memories as adults, memories I would always cherish if I had been given the opportunity.
I shifted in my seat, leaning closer to the window gasping at the beauty of the sunrise. A slice of brilliant orange was scarcely peeking over an unending layer of lavender clouds. Yellow fingers of light shot up, filling the whole sky with an awareness of something or someone much greater than mankind. And as I studied the wonder of it all, I wondered how many sunrises my sister had left.
Our recent few phone conversations and Facebook chats played over and over again in my mind. Even the humming of the plane's engine could not drown out the memory of her words on that day four years prior. Six years had passed with only two or three phone calls from her, usually an attempt for money or something else she needed at the moment. That particular call caught me off guard. For years, in my own attempt to protect my heart, I expected to never hear from her again. Drugs have a way of stealing dreams, hopes and relationships. But here she was on the other end of the phone, her voice stoic and somewhat formal.
“Lori, it's Susan. How are you? Well, I'm calling because I wanted to let you know that I have Breast Cancer. . .” Her words raced on but I didn't hear a thing. With each word she spoke my legs became heavier. I listened and assured her I would be there for her as much as I could. I hung up the phone still stunned. It wasn't suppose to be this way, I thought. And yet something inside of me told me this was the providential hand of God.
It would take a diagnosis of Breast Cancer to reunite us after so many years. And as I sat alone on the plane contemplating how the conversations may go, old dormant hurt feelings were trying to resurface. Would we finally be able to clear the air? I had become proficient in glossing over the elephant in the room but could true reconciliation take place like that? Would she finally open up and let me into her world, as dark as it had been? Her world of addiction, heartache, and lies? Even with all the hurt, I still had a deep love for my older sister. Even with all her poor choices I still looked up to her, adored her. I stood at a crossroad wondering if I could ever fully express to her all my hurt while still conveying my love. Or would I once again tiptoe around it all without saying a word? Was I suppose to act as though nothing had happened? Was I suppose to skirt around all the questions of how she'd lived all these years? More importantly, I wondered if she could ever come to realize that her feelings of being a black sheep were merely lies she had told herself? Lies that directed many of her steps throughout her life. Could she come to understand how much she was truly loved, not only by me but by God? Could she see that it was time for her to stop her running, even at death's door? And if the conversation allowed for such things, could I do what was called of me and share with her all that laid upon my heart; would I have the words?
As the minutes skipped by, a new pain pulsated at the importance of our visit, this final journey to say good-bye; to share so much that had laid hidden for so long. Memories began washing over me, like a bittersweet balm. Tears stung hot and freely ran down my cheek. A lump formed deep within my throat. and I no longer cared who sat around me. I no longer worried who may see the tears, I let them run freely. I grabbed a tissue and in the next few moments as I sat watching the sun rise somehow there was a sudden awareness of God's presence with me. I was not to do this alone. This was not about me or about her, it was about Him. As clear as day, and yet inaudible, I felt him say, “Fear not, for I am with you. Fear NOT, I go before you. Your journey will not be an easy one, but I will be with you. Do not be afraid.” And in that moment I knew God was on a mission and I was privileged to be part of it. Little did I know that the journey He spoke of was not simply the few days spent with my sister, but one far longer than I could have ever imagined.
And so that was the beginning of a new chapter on my journey, one that opened secret places I didn't even know existed. . .
Currently I am attempting to put to words this adventure in which I find myself. It seems I am on a treasure hunt with God leading the way. I don't promise to have all the answers in this life, nor to write a happily ever after fairy tale. Instead I will write about a true story, my story; one with honest struggles, fears, hopes and even in the darkest moments, faith. In the end I KNOW I will have my Happily Ever After. Yet it is on this journey, living in the here and now, that I find can be the most interesting, the moments when God reveals himself when we least expect it. Feel free to tag along with me as I share the secret places of my heart, my life and my struggles along the way. And I hope that in some small way it will bless those who have decided to come along for the ride.
~Lori
To be continued. . .
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