The mission trip started with encountering a nun. I hoped she would encourage, pray and bless, but she was nun of the above. How do you react when God doesn’t make sense?

Flying in discomfort

Flying to the other side of the globe requires enough excitement to offset the torture of cramming your body into a space engineered for no one. Short legs don’t require much room, but neither do my feet touch the floor. The headrest hits the top of my head and pitches my neck forward at an unnatural angle. But most of all, my body is designed to move, not sit still. Comfort, rest, ease – airline seats are none of the above.

Killing time

A long layover was scheduled to ensure we made all the connections between my little national airport and the big international one. After two short flights, I had several hours to kill before I got into the compact space on the plane. I needed to walk. Since it was a mission trip, I also needed to pray. You know I’m the queen multi-tasker, so I decided to do both simultaneously.

Nun of the above

Tightening the laces on my sneakers, I took off like a jet. Pumping my legs to keep the blood flowing. I lapped the concourse over and over. Each time I passed gate 7, I noticed a nun reading a book. And every time I felt the Lord nudging me to ask for prayers for my trip.

First of all, I’m protestant and second, that seems just plain weird. So, I trekked on. But another round, and she remained in the same place and so did the certainty that the Lord called me to talk to her. Now, I’m perfectly comfortable talking to strangers, but not interrupting someone’s day to ask them for something. In fact, I don’t like to ask for help at all. Pride, I suppose. Yeah, that’s definitely a problem.

Ok, I’m listening

I kept moving and she didn’t. Finally, I surrendered and sat down beside her. She never looked up from her book and I thought, “Lord, you aren’t making this easy.” Bending at the waist, I retied my shoes and looked at her intently, trying to get her to notice me. Nope, she kept reading. Cutting my eyes, her way, I strained to see if the book was a conversation starter. Nope, then she turned another page.

Either I had to initiate the conversation or forget it. The latter was my preference, but the more I prayed, the more the Lord called me to listen to His voice.

“Excuse me.”

She looked at me without smiling. “Sister,” I said, not sure if that was appropriate or if it sounded like the way women were addressed at church potlucks. Either way, she waited for me to continue.

“Will you pray for me?”

I don’t remember if she hesitated or I didn’t take a breath, continuing on with my commitment, “I’m going on a mission trip for the next two weeks.” She nodded and said ok.

Not what I expected

I thought the Lord sent me to her for prayers, encouragement and blessing, but I got none of that. I got a nod, then she returned to whatever captivated her attention.

Making another lap around the concourse, I wondered why God would send me to her or her to me. Here’s what I felt Him say in my spirit:

“I needed to know you would obey me, whether it made sense or not. You are going into a dark place and I need you to listen to Me and follow Me.”

What I needed

Instead of the encouragement I thought I’d get from the nun, I got encouragement directly from the Lord. I’m not saying I heard an audible voice, but man was it sweet.

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. “John 10:27

Hearing God speak in whispers to my soul isn’t something I often experience. But it always comes when I am abiding with him.

“And whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, ‘This is the way, walk in it.” Isaiah 30:21

Read more in: He speaks his native language. I snuck in a little nun humor.