The Amazing Airport Run

In some ways, it made sense to have me drive Crystal to the airport. In other ways, I was not the best choice.

Crystal had been serving as a counselor all summer at Center Lake Bible Camp, but now she needed to head home to prepare final details for her upcoming wedding. I had been her supervisor and mentor, so we had the relationship that lent itself to taking a long car ride together.

But I did not have much driving experience, and neither Crystal nor I knew the area. And this was in the days before cell phones and GPS.

But off we went to the airport, praying for safety and fellowship, and following vague directions like, “Get on Highway ____ and go south. There will be an airport sign to follow.”

The car trip started nicely enough. We did talk through the summer, discuss Crystal’s upcoming wedding plans, and have good time in prayer.

As we approached the area where we expected to see an airport sign, we kept our eyes alert. We thought we recalled being told, “You can’t miss it,” but we were getting the sense we had missed it.

I can only imagine what Crystal was really feeling. She showed few outward signs of panic, but, looking back, it was likely much more stressful than she had been expressing. She was flying home for her WEDDING, and it was becoming clear that we might not get her to the airport on time.

We kept driving.

This story is actually quite embarrassing—how it reveals my lack of good direction-seeking decisions at this early stage in my driving experience. Maybe we did not stop to ask for directions because we were on an interstate. It probably had something to do with the fact that we kept thinking, “They said we couldn’t miss it; surely it will be around the next corner.”

We kept driving! And we prayed.

Finally, I said (as Crystal sat even lower in her seat and I was inwardly, painfully aware of how deeply I had messed this up for her), “When it comes time for your flight to take off, we’ll turn around.”

So, when the clock turned exactly to her flight time, we took the next exit. And then I had reason to beat myself up again. “Good grief!” I thought to myself (all the while keeping my dismay contained for Crystal’s sake, as she was clearly doing for me), “I picked an exit where we can’t turn around!”

I apologized and looked for the next opportunity to get ourselves going in the right direction again. We approached a sign informing us of upcoming exits. One of the exits said, “Airport Road.” I looked at Crystal with my eyebrows raised in question. “Should we?” I asked with a smile.

At this point, I figured, “Why not?” So I took the Airport Road exit, knowing full well that this was not what our direction-giver had in mind. We were substantially south of our target.

Airport Road proved to be a disappointment at first. It quickly became what felt like a back road, with almost nothing on it. But after driving about a mile or so, we came up behind what looked like a small airport. I followed the signs that led to the main entrance.

I pulled into the airport and saw a sign for the airline Crystal had planned to take. I said, “It’s worth a try,” and I pulled into a parking spot. “Well?” I inquired. Crystal responded with an uncertain smile.

“I’ll ask!” I said, as I unloaded her suitcase from the back of the van.

We walked into the front door, carrying her luggage, with me holding her ticket in my hand.

I marched up to the gate agent (who had no line at all) and said with a smile, “This is Crystal. She is trying to get home to her wedding. I got us lost and she missed her flight, but it’s with your airline. Can you honor this ticket?”

The gate agent looked over the ticket, looked over the two hopeful young women before her, and shrugged.

“Sure!” she said as she stamped the ticket with gusto. “Why not?!”

And, God be praised, Crystal was able to go from despair to jubilation.

We received further instruction and headed to the possibly only gate this small airport had.

We had a little time to spare, so we decided to get some lunch. We were the only ones eating at the practically empty airport, so the young man making our food gave us about six extra pieces of bacon each.

Crystal and I laughed to each other. “Wow! This trip has gone from being horrible to being wonderful!”

We certainly agreed that God had blessed us. He had taken an absolute disaster and turned it into what really looked like a miracle.

We had driven, driven, driven, farther and farther away from our destination. Of all the exits we could have taken on that interstate, we had taken one that had seemed wrong because it had no return ramp. Driving on what seemed like a poorly chosen highway, we had seen a sign for an exit simply called Airport Road, which we had taken in faith and with a spirit of adventure. Airport Road led us to an airport, where a generous gate agent allowed us to use an invalid ticket to get Crystal to the chapel on time.

We were giddy with the glory of it.

Like I said, this was before the days of cell phones, so I don’t remember what happened with those who were to meet her on the other end, but I do distinctly remember waving good-bye to Crystal as she boarded that plane with a huge smile on her face. And I strongly remember the awareness that God had been very, very good to us.

I kept this airport receipt as a tangible reminder of how God miraculously got Crystal home for her wedding, despite my failures.