British Airways messed up again. I wasn’t supposed to be on this flight.
I bumped through the aisle searching for my seat. I thought I travelled light but my backpack, diaper bag and child’s tent grew heavy sooner than I expected. Many hands reached to help me load the bags into the plane’s overhead compartments. I swiveled my head side to side thanking all the gentlemen.
Babies open doors, especially babies, like mine, who smile at strangers.
Sitting down I felt the urge to speak with the guy sitting next to us. When he smiled at Little Bear I started talking. As we spoke he tickled Little Bear’s feet, allowed him to play with the ring on his finger and generally entertained him the entire plane ride. Our initial conversation revolved around his aviation mechanic license, school and travel plans.
Then he asked me about the Middle East conflict. His name is Sharif. He is Saudi Arabian and he is Muslim.
His question caught me off guard so I turned it around, asking him what he thought. He quickly condemned the actions taking place. As we talked I asked him more. He shared with me both his doubts about his faith and his concerns about mine. I, in turn, shared with him. The conversation was serious but comfortable. No arguing just discussion and much internal prayer on my part that my words would be clear, representing my Father well.
After a while our conversation once again turned back to less serious things; scuba diving, underwater hunting, and how to hold your breath for long periods of time. I’m thankful for him, his help, how he entertained Little Bear and his honesty. I pray he finds The Truth.