Missions
As I found an empty seat in the crowded hangar, the local airport, I scanned the surroundings.
I tried my best not to bring any attention to myself, but it was somewhat useless. Eyes from every corner of the humid room had already noticed me as I came through the first check point.
No one tried to show it and nobody tried to talk to me, they all treated me like I was one of them and yet I felt so different.
These four weeks had gone by so fast and by now my eyes had grown used to the smaller statue of the sweet smiling Filipinos everywhere.
I stood head and shoulders taller than most people and my skin had surely never been looking so white before either.
What had happened to it?
The beds, chairs and even cars had forced my legs to curl up in the most awkward positions.
Oh how I wish I could just be melting in to the scenery for just a short moment rather than having people stare at my every move right now.
However, in just a few moments I would be back on the plane to take me back home and soon enough I would land in my home country again and not be noticed by anybody.
Everything would be back to normal, or would it?
As exhaustion tried to take control of my being my spirit kept feeding me greater memories.
Soon my mind became flooded with all the amazing adventures that He had taken me through this trip.
The miracles, the healings and the salvations suddenly overwhelmed my heart. My eyes fills with tears and now I wish I could have stayed a little longer, another two weeks or perhaps another year.
All of a sudden I wanted to run out of this airport, back into the villages. Who cares about the discomfort and being different!
Who cares about the unsafe water and the plates of rice three times a day!
God had showed me a side of Himself that I had never experienced before and it was so compelling.
Then all of a sudden I noticed something different in the room.
There, behind a pillar sits another person, another person like me. A man with the whitest skin I ever seen, far whiter than mine and with light brown hair. For some reason I can’t take my eyes off him, he looks so different, almost strange.
I stare at him for the longest time. Finally I realize that I am behaving just like the others in the room, you can’t but help staring at a white person like this. They truly look so strange! He is the first white person I’ve seen in four weeks.
I get out of my chair and starts walking towards him. Every eye in the room is now following my every step towards this strange white person.
I am wondering what they all are thinking.
‘Hi, my name is Laura. What brings you to a place like this’, I ask him on arrival.
He looks up and gives me a grin.
‘Well, that’s a strange story’, he says in a perfect British accent. ‘Please take a seat and I will tell you,’ he continues.
As I try to get myself comfortable on the small chair beside him he starts to tell me his story.
A year earlier this train driver from London had met a lovely young girl over the Internet. Soon he had fallen madly in love and decided to fly over to see her and hopefully ask her to marry him.
That’s how he had landed here two weeks earlier.
On arrival he discovered that this girl was not at all interested in marriage but he was welcome to stay with the family for the rest of his vacation.
Her father being a minister of the Gospel brought him along as they traveled the country side, preaching the Good News everywhere.
It didn’t take long before the young man realized what he had to do.
His story filled my entire being with awe of my God. There was surely nothing too hard for Him to arrange, nothing at all.
Soon we enter the plane together with the rest of the passengers, still sharing the amazing experiences we both had just encountered.
Two completely different motives had brought us to this place and as we board the plane we both know, His mission had been accomplished.
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