Sweaty and ready

If you have never seen God plan ahead on your behalf and then work really hard during a given process on your behalf and then allow circumstances and challenges to abound so that He can quietly make His presence known on your behalf, then you should strongly consider signing up for a mission trip. Case in point ...

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times and it happened to be in the middle of summer. We arrived at Amarillo airport all on time and the Continental airline staff got us checked in, all 42 checked bags and 20 carry-ons, in less than 30 minutes. What I should have considered is that this was not so much a good start as it was a way to make sudden the utter chaos to follow. I’ll not bore you with the details of our families sending us off, the sweet fellowship at the airport, or the tender goodbyes.That would be like describing the Apollo 13 mission but not including anything after it’s launch. We know our families love us, that's one of the things that makes this possible.

You see, we had been advised to check our bags into Houston. Then we would have 2 1/2 hours to pull all of the above bags and re-check them all the way to St. Petersburg. That way we would be doing all of this in familiar English and not unfamiliar Russian. Good plan, right? Well, no good plan survives first contact with the enemy. We get to Houston, run to baggage claim, collect our bags and then board the “Train” that is really three egg cartons strung together on a 5-mile-per-hour train that has a greater resemblance to my sons Thomas the Tank Engine track set than anything designed to carry people. Each car caries 5 people and their luggage. There’s three cars to a train. There’s 21 of us. No sweat. It’s early and I have so much caffeine in me that I am making coffee nervous. So, I board the first train so I can run ahead and tell the Singapore Airlines people that we are coming. Tick-tock, the watch says. Just more than 2 hours to make it.

So, I ride the train for 15 minutes and wound up back where I started, but on the other side of the hall. There is the rest of the team, laughing at us (the train only goes one way), but now most of the rest of them board. So, then we all make it to the gate and it is packed. The short version here is that it takes an hour to get checked in and oh, by the way, you have to get your luggage from baggage claim in Moscow. WHAT? I asked. Uh-huh, she said. Tick-tock goes my blood pressure. So we run some more, just to find out we beat the crew to the plane by 30 minutes. On the plane we go and it is the nicest cattle-car class plane I have ever flown in. Everyone has an AC plug at their seat, a USB charging port, plenty of leg room, I got an aisle seat, the plane is new and even the food was good (ask Hannah about the yummy sausage!) So, we’re good. This is a good omen, and I don’t believe in omens, but if I did, this would be a good one. Then there’s Moscow. Moscow. Seriously. Moscow.

We get off the plane, (we’re late) and have right at two hours to once again, pull 42 checked bags, 30 carry-ons, 2o team members and a stressed team leader from passport control, to baggage claim, to ticketing, to the gate, to the seats. We come over the rise where customs is and it is wall-to-wall people. I thought maybe Bruce Springstein was there, holding up traffic. We shove our way through the Russian crowd (they don’t smile very often) and make it to the open escalator that leads to our parole .. I mean, passport control and find that there is probably 1500 people trying to get through 8 passport lanes and that have an institutional fear of lines. Think of 4 hour glasses set on their side. It’s not lines 1,2, and 3, it’s feed lot 1, 2, and 3. Bad. Really bad. Less than 90 minutes now and we can barely see daylight. This ends when we all, 45 minutes later, get through, find our bags and then head to ticketing - 40 minutes before the plane takes off. Do you know that I like to be early to things? I’m freaking out.

But, then God does it again, someone tells me there is a guy with an “Amarillo” sign and sure enough, it’s a Buckner guy that is running us towards ticketing. Long line, angry Russians, 45 minutes later (had to pay for some excess baggage here as well, did I mention that?) and we are now sprinting towards the next gate with a 5 foot Russian that speaks as much English as I do Klingon on point. It’s O.J. time through the airport. We went through the metal detectors so fast I could have been carrying the 11th Armored Tank Division in my carry-on and they would have not noticed. He chases me all the way down the jetway and into the airplane where we find ourselves soaking wet (it was 90 today in Moscow and they don’t have AC) exhausted (it’s 7am back home), and thoroughly shot. Did I mention that we had to gate check our second carry-ons every time?

But, here’s the bottom line: we’re here families. Every single piece of luggage made it Through all of that chaos, we lost nothing, we had Russians helping us every step of the way, and even an American missionary family that Anne and I have known in the past was offering help in case we got stuck in Moscow.

God is so good. When you pray for us, and I hope you all are, tell Him thank you. He has kept us on task and humble. Tired, but not taxed. He has been so faithful every step of the way. This has been the worst overseas experience I have ever had regarding traveling, and not a single moan or whimper was released by the team. They have run, trotted, carried, trooped, hoisted, slugged, and coerced themselves over 5,000 miles and did it in such a way that someone identified us as believers just because of the smiles on our faces. What a remarkable group of people.

Families, please know that we love you and we miss you, “... but we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.”

Weakened, so that we can be strengthened.