I was sitting down at the Chicago airport, waiting to meet up with a couple ladies I would be taking an Uber with to the conference, and finishing up my overly priced wrap, when a young woman approached me. “Excuse me, can I pray for you?”
The question startled me. What had she just asked? I mean, I knew what she asked, but I was in disbelief. Wasn’t this something I had heard or seen that happened to other people? Surely, not to someone like me. But it was me she had asked.
The only thing my muddled mind could think to say was, “I’m going to a writing conference.” Though inwardly, my insides were an emotional wreck, and that was really what I could use prayer for. I hadn’t slept well that night, and the entire morning, my nerves refused to be reasoned with, even though I tried to pray through it and read scripture.
She prayed over me, wishing my conference would go well. As she ended, I stuttered over my words, but didn’t care as I asked her how she knew I needed prayer, or how she had the boldness to go up and ask people. She told me she was led by God, and that if I asked, that was something God would show me how to do, too. And it truly was a desire of my heart that I could become more bold in being able to encourage others through prayer. Without even asking, she prayed over me again, that this would be something God would help me with in the future.
As she said goodbye, I sat there, unable to quite comprehend that just happened. A complete stranger. A believer I had never met. In the airport crowded with hundreds of people. And I happened to sit down in a spot where this young woman had been standing. That was no coincidence. God had placed each other in our paths, and though my nerves didn’t quite calm down after she prayed, I was assured that I wasn’t alone in this. It felt as if God was saying he saw me, and knew my struggles, and that I was going to be okay.
Except I still hid.
Even after meeting with three lovely ladies (another answer to prayer) who were attending the conference as they helped me navigate through the Chicago airport and order and Uber to take the Wheaton Campus, I left their company as soon as I was registered and went to my dorm room. Part of me wished I could stay there, not move, forget that I had come all this way. Silly, I know. I had invested in this conference, so staying in the room forever wasn’t an option, but my internal struggle did not want to release its hold.
Yet, I got back up, forcing myself to face what I did not want to, and left the safety of my room. Somewhere amidst the wandering, as the opening session wouldn’t start for a while, I sat on a bench outside the main building.
What am I even doing here, Lord? I questioned. Could I even make friends if I were so paralyzed by this ridiculous anxiety?
Just then, a young woman walked by. Then slowed down. Then walked toward me. She smiled warmly and greeted me, and we both realized that we had messaged each other on the conference app a few days earlier. Instead of staying seated alone on the bench, I joined her on a walk around campus. Again, I knew this wasn’t a coincidence that she had walked by me at this timing. God really wasn’t leaving me to struggle alone in my mess.
Now it was time for the opening session.
I can’t remember much of what was said because I was burnt out, so as the session came to a close, and we applauded the speaker, all I wanted to do was get back to my dorm room. Yet the head of WTP Conference came up to the mic with closing remarks, and she invited us to head down to the lounge and meet up with other writers, tempting us with snacks, perhaps, but saying just go there, even if it was only for three minutes. Just three minutes.
I really didn’t want to go, but I could commit to three minutes, couldn’t I? And she did say there were snacks. I like snacks. Slinging my satchel over my shoulder, trying not to make contact with anyone else, I headed in the direction of the lounge would be. When I entered the room, it was already buzzing with activity. Many were already seated at tables, engaged in conversations. I headed to the back of the room where the snack table was and grabbed a small plate of food (they were good snacks, by the way) and wandered back through the main area. I wasn’t intending to sit with anyone, but I guess God had other plans. Again.
An older gentleman was sitting alone at a table, and he waved me to join. Well, I wanted to get to know people, so I should sit down, even if it was only for a little while. As I sat down, I secretly hoped we weren’t going to talk much, or that he would do all the talking. Before we even had much of a conversation, he continued to invite others to the table, and soon the table was filled with friendly faces. One lady started going into the history of C.S. Lewis, and I felt myself settle in, enthralled by the stories of what she was telling us. Though I was still tired, I did not regret staying past the three minutes.
As the night ended, and I headed back to my room, I wondered if there was a chance I would be able to settle into this conference. It seemed that God was using the little things that day to give me encouragement exactly when I needed it. Though it didn’t fix the overwhelm inside, it made it easier to handle. To be honest, I am so used to being the one who goes out of my way to encourage and help others, and for some reason, it didn’t occur to me that God can put people in my path to do the same for me when I feel incapable.
I think what I learned that day was that God sees you, even if it may seem like a small, insignificant thing, and he can help you through that, too. But also, reminding myself that small acts of kindness, whether that be praying with someone, inviting a stranger into your circle, are sometimes bigger than you may realize. You never know what someone is going through, so if you have a prompting in your heart to reach out, maybe step out and do it, for you never know how that will impact someone else and make their day.
Gettin' Real 