I just awoke from a nightmare. I’m running through an airport, frantically looking at signs, and glancing at the sweaty boarding pass in my hand. “It says 3309, Mom.” Yes, my mother is with me, faithfully following my lead. My sister is ahead, checking us in at the gate. We blindly forge ahead, dragging our carry-on luggage. I run through one door and another, heart-pounding, blood pressure rising, confused  and finding myself at a security gate. What? Didn’t we just go through security? My heads in whirl, I run up to a Dublin airport guard, telling him that we have to go through and we just went through a long line at Passport Control and that I was just trying to find my connecting flight. A torrent of words pouring out at him, poor guy. He is firm and tries calming down this out of control American woman. He says, “Sorry, but you still need to put all of your belongs on the belt and go through this security check point.” I argue my point a bit and then shakily start dumping my stuff into a bin, shoes in, belt off, sweat pouring down my face, my mom doing the same nervously behind me. We get through the check point and I ask another airport employee for help. He takes my boarding pass, calmly and nicely leads me to the screen, checks my flight number, and finds the gate for me. “I’m sorry but this is a ways down. This flight has now departed.” Despite the lovely Irish brogue, I’m staring with frustration, anger, and fear at him. He kindly hands me back my boarding pass. “I’m really sorry.” I glance at my long-suffering mother and bite back tears. We find my sister, who of course did not leave without us, and hash out how it happened. We calm down, settle into the Dublin Airport, waiting for our next flight.

I pull the blanket off my head and gulp. Yes, this is a nightmare, but it’s also true. I traveled this past summer to England and Paris with my sister and mother.  A dream trip that I am in awe of still and…yet this above incident still haunts me a bit as evidenced by my dream. I wonder how often in my inexperience I rush around in a panic. As a novice traveler, I read my ticket wrong, I trusted feelings over facts, and I allowed panic to make my decisions. I led my poor mom on a wild goose-chase.  Go ahead and laugh at my crazy antics. I know I do. Sorta. Life is a bit like this, you know. A tough circumstance presents itself, money might be tight, a relationship is hard, and I find myself wildly thrashing about, shooting off my mouth, digging a hole bigger than the original one. Sigh. Why? As a follower of Jesus  Christ, I know that He didn’t promise me an easy life. He gives His peace and love in the midst of all of this earthiness this side Heaven. I have a daily choice to make. Do I blindly run through the halls of life, dragging my baggage or do I pour all of my doubt, frustration, and despair into the arms of my faithful, loving Shepherd? It is not a magic potion. I do not automatically find my gate. It is an act of faith and trust. Can I stop for one second trying to control and figure out my life? Life is a nightmare when I trust in myself more than my Savior. Thoughts to ponder on…

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