It looks way worse in person
I meet her; one of those connections that God makes out of what could have been an irritation. A storm out West caused our jet to arrive two hours late. On top of that, I arrived at the airport four hours early. When something unforeseen happens, l start looking for the adventure.
It began unexpectedly. I am sitting at a computer counter next to my gate writing yesterday’s blog when a distraught woman approaches the agent.
“I can see my flight out the window. It is still at the gate. Can I get on?”
“I am sorry, but once the door is closed, it is out of my hands.”
She runs over to the door and begins pounding on it, calling back across the waiting area, “Can’t you call them? Can’t you get them to come open the door?” She keeps pounding. And me? I am feeling bad for everyone.
The pounding lady doesn’t realize that they have pushed the jet away from the gate so there is no way she is going to get on board. I walk over and tell her and head down she heads back to the ticket counter to reschedule her flight.
That’s when I meet Louise Mackenzie-Hall, a 24-year-old Danish woman. She is obviously in pain and struggling to get out of a wheelchair while managing crutches and two bags. “Can I help you with something?” I ask.
She smiles and in a thick lilting accent says, “I need to go get something to drink, but….”
The solution is obvious. I offer to watch her bags and wheelchair while she went off to do whatever. I was working on the computer anyway and after we maneuvered everything next to where I was sitting, she headed off. Half an hour later, she crutches back and once in her wheelchair, we sat and talked. The obvious question was “So what happened?”
“It is actually very silly. I live and work in Annapolis, MD, for a Danish shipping company. We have about 60 oil ships in our fleet and I help manage the schedules and cargos. So I, and some others from our office are down here in Houston visiting a client and we decided to hire rickshaws to see the city. Well, our client thought it might be fun if we raced each other, so he chose to be the runner for the one I was in. Rickshaws are much harder to steer than you can imagine and within 90 feet my client ran right into the only pole in the street, destroying the rickshaw and launching me out of it. Believe it or not, it is just a very bad sprain and not broken.”(see pic)
You had to be there…young woman with Danish accent explaining an accident while racing rickshaws in Houston. You couldn’t make this stuff up.
About that time it was announced that her flight was delayed four hours. So we ‘hung out’ for a few hours. I showed her pictures of my family and she showed me one of her brand new niece. She asked about my work and I tried to explain the book and what had happened. I pushed her down to the food area and she ate pizza while I tried to eat some bad Chinese. I asked lots of questions about Denmark and her family. At one point she told me she got her eyes from her mother.
“Eyes are the windows of the soul,” I responded.
She thought for a moment and then said, “Well put.”
“Actually, that is a quote from the Bible.”
“The Bible? Ah, that is a book that I have never read. In Denmark only few of the older folk even go to church. About the only thing we ever do in the church is get christened and married. Other than that no one I know is concerned about spiritual things. I have been thinking of reading the Bible. For some reason I have been wondering about it. How should I start?”
I told her about Eugene Peterson’s The Message and how to start with the Gospels, since they were full of stories. As I tell her, she types it all into her Blackberry along with The Shack information and my email. She promises to send me a note when she finishes the book.
That is all I feel nudged to do or say. I believe that the Holy Spirit know very well how to gracefully love this young woman into the wonder of relationship. I am just thankful that I got to participate, even in such a small way.
A delightful visit and we hug goodbye like old friends as I leave to board my flight. She doesn’t know it, but for a couple hours it was almost like being with my own daughters. Louise gave me a gift, her presence lifting my heart, a little kiss of grace from home.
On the flight to Philly, I sit next to Nathaniel, a three year old and her grandmother. We watch ‘Alvin and the Chipmunks’ movie, The Squeekuel (I am told). I didn’t realize ‘Chuck’ was in that movie. When I ask her how many grandbabies she has, Nathaniel pipes in, “I have two…two sisters. That is all I have.”
The main building - sleeps 56 guests
We arrive at Raphaela’s Center in Haverford, PA, sometime after 1AM and I am escorted to the ‘Hermitage’, a two room plus bathroom away from the main building. Sister Margaret and Sister Asunta, who picked me up at the Philly airport, bid me goodnight and I soon crash, tired and content.
Six sisters of the order of ‘The Handmaids of the Sacred Heart of Jesus’ have brought me here to speak to about 120 Friday night at their chapel, a simple and beautiful windowed room looking out onto the landscaped property. Margaret, author of The Eucharist and Social Justice, and professor at Villanova, Ruth, who will be 90 in July and is a little hard of hearing (when I told her I was the author, she looked up at me and said, “You think you are holier?”), Uyen-Chi, American Vietnamese studying in Seminary, K-Joy, who quickly made sure I was being well taken care of, Asunta, a Vietnamese Vietnamese who made sure I was well fed, and Philamena, who at 94 is full of pep and spunk. I love these women.
Picture of a picture...will try to get a better one tomorrow
I had a delightful and restful day, walking the grounds, catching up on some reading, taking a nap, visiting with the sisters, going out for supper with sister Margaret to a local Chinese restaurant (much better than Houston airport), and then speaking for about two hours followed by signing books and lots of hugs.
I am now about to go to sleep. 6AM breakfast is scheduled with the sisters before I head off to the airport and flight to Jackson MS, via Atlanta.
Everywhere I go I meet extraordinary people, or maybe I am more able to see how extraordinary human beings truly are. Everywhere you look, as Cockburn would say, you see ‘rumors of glory’. “You plunge your hand in, you draw it back scorched, something is shining like gold, but better, rumors of glory.” I don’t hold any hope in politics or religion or systems created out of our independent need for control, but I have a sure certainty in the presence of multitudes of incredible human beings who are changing the world one hug, one kindness, one act of forgiveness, choosing to do the hard work, telling their secrets, asking for help, loving their children, repenting, remaining faithful, asking for forgiveness, one demonstration of love at a time.
