Two Guys On A Plane

Sitting in row 25 on a flight home from Dallas, I find myself pondering the occupants of row 24 … two elderly women and a man in his 40s.  It started when they blocked, with their bags, the aisle that people walk down to board the plane.  This happened while Group 1 was being called, although these people were Group 3.  How rude.


I was already buckled in when they came on, so I got to see them fill two overhead compartments with roller bags (placed sideways of course), purses, coats, shopping bags, and everything else.  Naturally they did this during the flight attendant’s announcement to place smaller items under the seat in front of you to make room up above for other passengers’ belongings. Inconsiderate.


Shortly after takeoff, the male member of the trio – who’s in 24C, right in front of me – leaned his seat back without the warning that would have been courteous.  At least he could have eased it down slowly.  But no.  Wham!  Into my knees.  Insensitive, to say the least.


But what’s that?  Oh no!  A thought creeps from God’s Spirit to my spirit and then to my mind. I’m trying hard to keep it out, but that little voice is always so persistent.  The whisper says, “Look at these people through the eyes of God.”


From that perspective I see three wandering souls, pretty similar to me.  Not perpetrators of selfishness, but victims of a disease called sin that manifests itself in behaviors that are unwanted by the very ones who do them.  I don’t have to live in those people’s skin and fight their battles.  And that’s fortunate, because I’m pretty consumed with my own.


If they’re sick, perhaps I – just a fellow patient – could be conduit for the Great Physician to administer one small treatment to these His children.  A smile or a kind word might be enough. Or I could help them take their stuff down from the overhead bin when we land.  Based on quantity, I’m sure they could use a hand.


According to the flight attendant we’ve started our initial descent, so I’ll have to turn off electronic devices, including the one on which I’m typing this musing.  Soon the Light Of The World will try to shine just a little through a very unworthy vessel.  That would be the guy in 25C… me.


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