I hadn’t seen my family in over a decade.
Then God moved. I started praying, and before I knew it, a door opened I hadn’t even gone looking for. Sooner than I expected. Sooner than I’d planned for.
Immigration took forever that day. I stood in line, so close, my brother waiting somewhere past those doors, and I couldn’t do anything to speed it up. I just had to wait my turn.
He picked me up from the airport. I hadn’t seen his face in years. I don’t remember what either of us said first. I remember only that he was there, and I was there.
I’ve been thinking about airports since that trip. About what they actually are.
Once you’re through security, everyone around you is going somewhere. Every person is headed somewhere different. Different flights, different gates, different cities, different times.
Each person has a boarding pass with a gate number printed on it. You cannot walk into a gate that isn’t yours. The gate agent will stop you. Even if the plane at the next gate is going somewhere you’d rather be, you can’t get on. That plane belongs to someone else’s itinerary.
You cannot board an earlier flight either, no matter how badly you want to skip the wait. You leave at the time printed on your ticket. Not the time you’d prefer.
So you wait. You watch other planes leave. You watch people run to catch flights that are boarding sooner than yours. And you sit there, holding your ticket, trusting a system you have no control over, for a departure time someone else determined.
I think that’s close to what waiting on God actually looks like.
We watch other people’s prayers get answered. We watch someone else’s door open while ours stays shut. We wonder if we missed our flight, if we’re standing at the wrong gate, if everyone else got a boarding pass and we didn’t.
Their gate isn’t your gate. Their flight isn’t going where you’re going.
God booked your ticket. He knows your gate number and your departure time, because He planned your trip. He isn’t confused about when and where you’re going, even when you are.
Mere months before I stepped off that plane, I had no idea I was going. I wasn’t looking for that door. God opened it in His own timing, not mine, and got me on a plane I never planned to catch.
All I had to do was be close enough to hear the announcement when it was time to board, and not walk away from the gate because the wait felt too long. Staying near Him was the only requirement.
Yet, I wish I could tell you that knowing His faithfulness makes the next wait easier. It hasn’t. Not for me.
I still catch myself checking departures, wondering if I’ve missed my flight. Trusting Him isn’t a lesson you learn once. It’s a choice you make today, and again tomorrow.
If you’re standing at your own gate right now, watching other planes take off, don’t walk away. Wherever He has you going is worth every hour you spent waiting at the gate.
Happy Travels!