Life Lessons and How I Delayed 130 Passengers

“I don’t think you should go to Wellington,” said Kevin. “You’ve had a bad dose of flu and you don’t look well.”

I disagreed pointing out that I had work appointments that had a deadline of Wednesday 9th June. So on the 8th June at 5:30 am – on an empty stomach - I swallowed two flu capsules and a spoon of cough syrup and set off for the airport. By 6:30am I was seated in the aircraft and started feeling hot and dizzy. I stripped off some layers, then shoved my sleeves up and turned my air vent on full. By now, the cabin crew had finished the safety demonstration and we about to head onto the runway. My vision was blurring and I knew I was going to faint. There was no space to put my head down and I could imagine the drama if I slumped over during takeoff.

I pressed the call bell.

Friends and family will know that I do not like being the centre of attention and had to be desperate to do this. The cabin crew asked the passengers next to me to move to other seats and through the blur, I remember they shot off like I had the plague. The next step was wet cloths on my neck as I was burning up and sweating. Then an oxygen mask over my face and the reassurance that the paramedics were on the way.

I was mortified.

Still hazy and dizzy, I answered the medics’ questions as they helped me into a wheelchair along with my oxygen. Unfortunately I was seated at the back of the aircraft so all the passengers had the privilege of watching my exit. Two thoughts were running through my befuddled mind: please don’t let there be anyone I know on this flight and Kevin is going to be so cross.

As soon as we got off, the 0°C air in the air-bridge hit me and I felt the first sense of relief. However, the story was far from over. I was pushed through the airport to the first aid room which was a fair distance – and every time I peeped, people were gawking at me. Then I discovered they had called an ambulance.

I was so embarrassed.

Both sets of medics checked me over, measuring my oxygen levels and heart rate and finally I was given the all clear. They advised me to go home and rest – but being a woman with a mission I said no, I needed to get to Wellington and no, they must NOT call my husband. So light-headed and on shaky legs I followed the Air New Zealand staff member to rebook my flight.

I must give Air New Zealand a thumbs up here. All the staff who helped me were wonderful – very compassionate and caring – and no worries that I’d delayed the flight and all the passengers. I’d only paid $1 for my trip but in spite of that they rebooked me for a late morning flight and later put me on standby so I could leave a little earlier. I spent three hours in the airport, eating, drinking and resting to try and get my system back to normal.

Anyway, after all the embarrassment, humiliation and mortification, I believe I have learnt some valuable life lessons:

1) Sometimes husbands do know best – and yes, Kevin was a little cross with me.
2) Don’t take medication on an empty stomach at 5:30am. It will make you feel woozy and faint.
3) There are some wonderful caring people in this world who will help you when you need them.
4) Flying with earache is not a good idea. It can be very painful.
5) Your offspring will laugh at your medical dramas once they know you’re not dying.

Until next time ...

My Little Miracle

When God Steps In

On Easter Sunday, the speaker at our church asked who had seen God do a miracle in their lives that week. The response was muted with maybe four or five people responding. He then asked why we aren’t seeing God move – is it because we don’t expect Him to do anything?

The thought stuck with me and when I was in Wellington a few days later, I had the opportunity to ask God for a miracle. I was on a mystery shop flight from Wellington back to Christchurch and needed to be at the airport an hour before the flight to start my observations. As I was about to leave the hotel, I realised I had misplaced my Wellington bus card and although I had enough cash for the fare, I emptied my suitcase to look for it.

Five minutes later, frustrated, annoyed and cardless, I headed onto the street to walk the 500 metres or so to the bus stop ... and as I turned the corner, I saw the airport bus driving off. My initial reaction was not good. Thoughts of idiot, why did you waste time looking for your card and you’re going to be very late, rushed through my head. Then I thought of the question, what miracles has God done for you this week? I changed my thoughts to something along these lines. I’m sorry, God. This is entirely my fault. I made a bad decision but you can turn it round for good. Please do a miracle so I can get to the airport on time.

I reached the bus stop and stood waiting, the minutes ticking by. The airport bus runs every 15 minutes but like all public transport, can be unreliable. Ten minutes passed and in spite of my prayers, my anxiety levels were rising.

And then my miracle arrived. A taxi pulled into the bus stop and the driver lowered the passenger window. “Are you going to the airport?” he called.

“Yes,” I replied, “But I’m waiting for the bus.” (The taxi fare to the airport is about three times the bus fare and I couldn’t afford that.)

“I’m on my way there.” he said. “Pay me your bus fare and I’ll give you a ride.”

I climbed in and because we took the direct route with no stopping and starting, I arrived at the airport an hour before my flight. I was so amazed at how God worked things out and I know it was an answer to prayer. I’ve been to Wellington about 20 times over the last year and always catch the airport bus. Never before has a taxi stopped and offered me a ride.

It’s something simple but I hope my story inspires you to look for your own miracle this week. God is willing and able and wants to be involved in our lives. We just need to ask.

And if you're wondering, my bus card was the first thing I saw when I unpacked my suitcase at home!

When Plans go Wrong

Change is a Part of Life

I discovered this afresh over Christmas and New Year! It all started on Christmas Eve with a child's glow-stick – the kind you bend and shake to activate the light. It was our late night service and I was playing the piano. The plan was to turn off the lights before singing Silent Night and everyone would wave their sticks in the air. Even I had one to light up my music. So the lights go off and I bend and shake my glow-stick … and it snaps in half. The congregation is waiting for the introduction and I'm staring at my hands, skirt and keyboard which are sprayed liberally with ultraviolet splotches. By the way, did you know that glow-in-the-dark liquid smells really nice and is as oily as a roast chicken? With no tissues on hand and unable to see my music, I played the first few bars – and miraculously made it through the whole song, albeit with my fingers sliding all over the keys!

So to Christmas morning - the pastor had asked if I would read one of my Christmas stories at the service. I printed it off while eating breakfast and folded it to take to church with me. I was listed as being directly after a DVD presentation of O Holy Night and as the song drew to a close, I picked up my papers. Fortunately, I decided to have a quick look at the story – and to my horror, realized I had printed the wrong one. Here's a word of warning to all writers. Never ever give two stories the same name, even if they are stored in different folders. I was mortified, speechless, embarrassed and didn't know what to do, so I leaned over and told the pastor who stood up and told the whole congregation. He then pulled a poem out of his Bible and asked if I would read that instead. No time to skim through it, just stand up and read. So I did and it was good. And the church laughed with me.

By the time New Year's Eve arrived, I was determined there would be no more mishaps or mistakes. At 9:30pm we would go the square in town to watch an Abba tribute concert and later on would count the New Year in followed by a bagpiper playing Auld Lang Syne and a brilliant firework display from the roof tops.

At 7pm I got an urgent message from my middle son. Please come and fetch me. My friends are drunk and abusing me and I want to come home. That was all very well but he was in Nelson – a 4 ½ hour drive from Christchurch. After a brief discussion, Kevin and I set off. When midnight struck, we had just collected Tim and were driving through the mountains on the way home. I had the radio on in the hopes of hearing some celebration – and unbelievably they read the news at midnight. No Happy New Year, no music, no countdown. I was disgusted and spent the next hour sulking.

Then God whispered in my ear. My son was safe, Kevin and I had enjoyed several hours of chatting and the scenery on the way to Nelson was beautiful. Sure my plans had been upset for the third time in a week … but it no longer mattered. I fell asleep at 2am with peace in my heart and a new understanding of being flexible and accepting change.

New Every Morning

God fills our world with colour on a daily basis: the flash of a bird’s wing, green lawns, the soft blush of a pink rose. I captured this sunset at one of the beaches in Christchurch last week. The colours were absolutely amazing and the whole area was bathed in a pink haze. I just happened to be in the right area at the right time. It was a fleeting beauty, only lasting ten minutes, but that’s the wonder of God. Just as His mercies are new every morning, so too are the glories of creation. Each day brims with hope and promise; an adventure unfolding, the excitement of not knowing what will be next. This sunset reminded me to look for God in everything, everywhere. I’d like to encourage you to do the same.

Life is a Journey

Pleasant Places

I love this verse from Psalm 16:6 (NIV) The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.

As I sit in my room this morning and watch the sun reflecting off the snow-covered Southern Alps, I realise how blessed I am. I have a home to live in, food to eat and a car to drive. I'm surrounded by a family that loves me and good friends are always on hand to go out for coffee and some fun.

On July 16th, it will be exactly 3 1/2 years since we left South Africa. That was undoubtedly one of the worst days of my entire life ... but as I look back on all the sacrifices we made, I see that God has given us immeasurably more in exchange.

Life is a journey and if we allow God to navigate our way, the rewards will be so much greater than if we choose our own paths.

At Durban Airport as we said goodbye to friends before leaving for New Zealand