So dear brothers and sisters, you have no obligation whatsoever to do what your sinful nature urges you to do. For if you keep on following it you will perish. But if, through the power of the Holy Spirit, you turn from it and it's evil deeds, you will live…And since we are His children, we will share His treasures-- everything God gives to His Son, Christ, is our, too. But if we are to share His glory, we must also share His suffering."

Romans 8:12,13,17


Just this moment I sit in Terminal Six of LAX. A plastic seat is my spot to spy on a whole world of people rushing to somewhere. And since I missed my flight by just a few minutes, I now have hours and hours to wonder where they’re going.

While I wonder, the woman who wouldn’t let me check-in because I was two minutes past the deadline walks by. She’s smiling now, lost her scowl somewhere in the last couple of hours. For at least twenty minutes I was so mad— a victim of her crabbiness, held back from being where I wanted to be by a woman who insisted on controlling the one thing she could- me.

Choking poor-me tears, I had not choice but to surrender. But even as I gave in and paid the fees and trudged to my corner to wait, I heard that insistent tugging I’ve come to know so well.

That voice that beckons. The One whose whispers my self-pity nearly drowned out.

Choose, Diane. You can choose.

Really? Again? Isn’t that just denial? Shouldn’t I allow myself to connect with what I really feel— right now, right here?

And all the long way past the crowds of rushing people to the Starbucks in Terminal Four, I wrestled with the choosing. I wonder if anyone was watching me then as I’m watching now. Did they see the tears pushing close? Hear the thundering fury at my little-bit-of-day at home lost to lateness?

By the time my London Fog[1]was done, the choosing was easier. I heard Him clearer now.

Look for Me here.

Here in LAX, one thousand miles from home, surrounded by strangers. Really? Could this be His plan for me today— not just my mess-up? Could He possibly want me here right now, waiting in a crowded terminal instead of resting in my cozy cottage?

If some well-meaning soul were to flippantly toss out a “God is sovereign” platitude about now, I’d be more than a little annoyed. Sometimes, it seems, that’s just the easy punctuation point to silence someone else’s disappointment. Probably ought to be struck from the Christian phrase book lest someone like me say something less than Christian in response.

But the truth is, I believe it.

Here I sit, a surrendered-to-Jesus woman. How can I not view these “wasted” hours as His? How dare I believe that a tired, cranky airline employee is at fault? Or that I shouldn’t have stopped to talk with Veronica, the very woman Elizabeth is called to bring the love of Jesus to in her new apartment complex?

I am here on purpose. Maybe not something grand and applaudable. Maybe I’ll never know why. Maybe a fully-surrendered-to-Jesus woman doesn’t need to know why.

Maybe she just needs to surrender. Again.

Because when we dare tell Him, “Anything, anywhere, anytime”, He takes that seriously.

Sometimes that means big changes like moving from the comfortable to the daring.

But lots of times it just means allowing my own lateness to lead me to a place of watchful expectation… in Terminal Six at LAX… or in traffic… or in the budget that won’t quite balance… or anywhere.

I am waiting today… and somehow there is joy in this choosing. It’s not what I wanted… but I suspect it is what He wants for me.

God moves in mysterious ways… I believe that. But mostly He just moves in my every-days.

From a heart learning to choose,


P.S. I’ve been so cheered by your comments this week! Can you tell us what it is you are learning to choose?

[1] A delicious, comforting concoction of hot Earl Grey tea with steamed milk and a bit of vanilla sweetness