First, I must say that from now on, I think I will refer to
such moments in my life as “stella” moments—no not stellar, though that is what
I feel the moment is; I always want to give tribute to what I think of as the
time where I felt I learned to hear God/ understand that God was communicating
with me in my everyday life. I believe
we all have “stella moments,” but it is not certain that we will take away from
the situation the revelation, the truth, the urge, or the lesson that is put
before us. This is my story.
On July 31, 2012, I was to travel from my hometown in
Virginia to arrive in India on August 1, 2012 for a year of study abroad in the
field of social work. An exciting time
for me as this is my first time travelling to a place where the people are not
considered historically African. I have
travelled to several countries in West Africa, I have also been to Haiti
following the earthquake of 2010, and have been to many places on the east
coast of the United States where I see and interact with black Americans. Thus all of my travels and much of my rearing
has been within the African Diaspora. I began
to step outside of my comfort zone, which is necessary if I plan to call myself
a citizen of the planet who is from the African Diaspora. Well a thunderstorm, bathroom visit, and 4
flight schedule changes after, I finally arrived on August 4th. My stella moment happened on August 1st.
After the thunderstorm delayed my flight on the 31st,
I decided to take the same flight schedule for the 1st of
August. I assumed that I missed my
flight because God was protecting me from some unseen danger. While that may still be true because I
thankfully did not see it, I think something more significant was at play. On the 1st I arrived at the
airport to find that my flight was delayed yet again, but this time it was due
to a computer glitch. Thankfully, the
delay would not affect my connection to get to Qatar and then finally to India. I sat in the airport and began to write a
prayer to God, something I have been doing since I was about 12 years old. The prayer was mainly thanking Him for the
blessing from the Rotary Club for the opportunity and asking personal
preparation as well as for those I would encounter. I asked for protection for my resources, and
my family. But what might be most
significant comes after the third line of my prayer, which says,
“Lord,
thank you for your blessing. Continue to
bless me so that I may be a blessing.
This is a new exciting experience with awesome adventures and blessings
ahead.”
After writing my prayer, I began writing a letter to myself,
also pretty customary before a long trip so that I can write down my
expectations, anxieties, hopes, and questions before the journey and when I am
on the plane home, I usually read the letter and laugh at my insane
insecurities, and reflect on my foresight and discoveries. But if you know me at all, I got a little
distracted. An airport restaurant worker
walked by pushing a huge bin full of French fries soaking in what I assume was
probably salt water. It was after 8:30pm
and I had not eaten dinner. So I decided
to walk in the direction she was coming from to order some food, come back to
the gate and continue writing while eating.
My flight was not due to leave until 9:20pm so I had about 25 minutes to
kill without feeling flustered. My
letter to myself only got this far:
Dear Me,
As I wait for the plane to head to DC and begin this new chapter I hope
for great revelations while I am away. I
am trying to keep my mind open and free of too many expectations of the people
of India as I want to remain a clean and open/blank slate and absorb once I
arrive.”
On
my way to the restaurant, I went to the restroom. While I was using it, I kept hearing someone
say in a belabored tone, “Oh God, oh God.”
Once I finished in my stall, I noticed the door to the handicapped accessible
stall was open and I called to the voice and asked if everything was ok. An older woman replied and said that she couldn’t
get onto the toilet and needed to go so bad.
I walked closer and found a honey brown colored woman with the most
beautifully smooth skin and cotton looking grey hair sitting in a wheel chair
facing the toilet trying to use the bars on the walls to pull herself up. After getting her permission to help, I tried
to get her to her feet. She was a large
woman, probably around 300lbs or more, and even with the “one-two-three-up”
rock and stand technique that people use to get up, our effort was futile. I found out she was travelling with her
daughter who was about 10 gates away sitting with their dog. Mrs. Stella was an enticing woman and I found
out that I was not the only person who felt drawn to her. Somehow she recruited a middle-aged white man
to push her wheelchair to the restroom.
She told me he was outside waiting for her. On my way out I let him know that she was
having some difficulty and that I was going to get her daughter. I found her daughter and she seemed to act as
if her mother was a bit of a bother. “I
told her she wasn’t going to be able to go to the bathroom when she left, but
she knows so much.” Apparently, the
daughter had checked the board she usually uses to slide from the wheelchair to
the toilet. But it is beyond my belief
or understanding why she would do this, or assume that her mother should turn
off nature simply because it was “work” for her.
Anyhow,
I walked quickly ahead of her daughter who was answering a telephone call. I caught up with the guy waiting outside of
the bathroom for Mrs. Stella and told him that her daughter was on the
way. I heard one of his friends say that
they were about to start a game and was he in.
He got confirmation from me that her daughter was on the way and made
sure we could take it from here. Her
daughter arrived in the bathroom and with some fussing, convinced her mother
that it was a good idea to turn the wheelchair around and replace it beside the
toilet so all she would have to do is stand, “two-step” over, and sit. It worked…mostly except she ended up getting
some pee on the floor, but I thought it was an overall success. Her and her daughter decided to leave her on
the toilet for a while because her nephew was there to pick up the dog that
turned out to be too large to travel with as a carry-on. I told her I would give her privacy and go
check on my flight. There was a small
shop right beside the bathroom and I could see the gate from the shop. The attendant was still standing there and so
I stopped in the shop and picked up a bottle of water, apple chips and a book
that screamed at me when I walked in Becoming a Woman Who Listens to God,
by Sharon Jaynes. That stop probably
took about 2-3 minutes and then I walked just a few paces to my gate and saw
the monitor flashing departed. It was
now 9:28pm. And so even if I had not
stopped in the shop, I still would have missed it because the attendant told me
they left earlier than 9:20pm because the flight time was delayed so they try
to get out faster.
I
called home the next day after breakfast and charging my cell phone to tell my
dad what had happened. I explained to
him that at first I thought that God was protecting me from an unseen danger,
which may still be true, but what I learned is that, I believe that God was
letting me know that He listens. I asked
him specifically to continue to bless me so that I may be a blessing. I am blessed to be able to get up and use the
bathroom as I please and so why wouldn’t I help this woman. She could have been my mother, aunt,
grandma…anyone, even me! I also wrote in
the letter to me that I await great revelations. More than anything, this was confirmation
that He listens and that each step of this journey is but a faith walk. It began as a faith walk as nothing seemed to
fall into place in what I thought was a timely manner: my admissions letter
came only 10 days before my initial flight after finding out that one of the
schools I applied to had never received the paper portion of my application
that I had sent months prior, my scholarship funds were released the day before
I boarded the plane, but God opened up financial resources through a bank loan
just days before to cover my ticket and initial costs while I awaited my
scholar funds and to think I began preparation for this study abroad about a
year ago. Not to mention, once I was
rebooked, I got rebooked again 3 more times in Cleveland, New Jersey, Frankfurt
Germany, and Paris; and even though I do not know where my luggage is, I still
feel certain that it will arrive and that more importantly I would not have
changed my decision to help Mrs. Stella.
This journey is about faith and trusting God and knowing that He is with
me.
I
began reading the book that I picked up and in the first few pages, I received
clear understanding of my “stella moment”.
What I had not gotten the chance to write in my letter to myself was
that this trip was also intended for me to get away and seek God for myself in
what I thought to be a place filled with spiritual understanding and
respect. I had planned to take a retreat
during the time I was away in India and possibly go to an ashram to meditate
and be quiet so that I could hear God’s message and mission for my life. But this “stella moment” showed me that God
listens, that I can put full faith in Him as He has the situation worked out
even when it seems odd, and that I can hear Him even in the midst of my daily
life. In the first chapter of the book,
“God Still Speaks Today,” these things were reaffirmed when the author says:
“I’ve often thought, if I could just get away from the clamor and
calamity of everyday life, perhaps I could hear that still, small voice. But when I pored over scripture, I
discovered that some of God’s most memorable messages were not delivered while
men and women were away at a spiritual retreat, but right in the middle of the
hustle and bustle of everyday life. He
spoke to Moses while he was tending to sheep, to Gideon while he was threshing
wheat, to Zechariah while he was performing his duties in the temple, to the
shepards while they were watching their flocks by night, to Peter and Andrew
while they were fishing on the sea, to the woman at the well while she was
drawing water for her household chores…I don’t believe it is a question of
whether or not He will speak, but whether or not we will listen. Henry Blackaby in his book, Experiencing God, said, ‘Right now God
is working all around you and in your life.
One of the greatest tragedies among God’s people is that, while they
have a deep longing to experience God, they are experiencing God day after day,
but do not know how to recognize Him.’”
People
refer to what Moses experienced as the “Burning Bush” experience or
moment. And well, I call mine the
“stella moment” when God reaffirmed that He listens, I can trust Him, and that
I do indeed have the capacity to hear Him and I do not need to go all the way
to India to do so because He can speak to me anywhere. I did
not hear a voice as Moses did, but I feel like I “heard” Him because I began to
understand the message that was being sent to me. And well, maybe one day I will indeed have a
new kind of moment when I actually hear a voice, who knows. I will possibly call it some other kind of
“moment,” but for now, I am thankful for this stella moment and I also know
that there are many more to come. Who
would have thought that meeting Mrs. Stella Brown in the restroom would change
my life in such a stellar way?
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