#AriseAndBringTheHeavensDown

I have a feeling those of you who joined us to pray and hope after reading the last post might be curious how my friends' trip turned out. Here's part of the story. God was at work before they even left their house that day. Before you get to the end, I should warn you: I haven't heard the next part of the story. It is possible it may not be told here. But it was such a mischievous ending, I couldn't part with it! 

Part 2: Hope and Healing

Winter glanced around her, over either shoulder; the gate she'd been waiting at was deserted. She was the only one here. Immediately, she stood and found the flight directory. Her gate had been changed. She ran, got in line, and breathlessly gave the stewardess her pass. Most of the plane had boarded already, her number had been called long ago. 

LAX Internation Airport

She took her seat, relieved to have made it in time. "We're running late folks," the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom. "We'll take off as soon as your seated and have you at LAX as close to on schedule as possible." 

That's awesome, Winter thought. Esa's plane was probably already there, he'd be waiting. 

Five minutes later, the pilot's voice projected overhead again. This time, his tone flat and hardly masking frustration. "I apologize for the delay, folks. Looks like we have to de-ice."

The woman next to winter began to rant about being on a tight schedule and needing to be at her destination on time. Winter turned to face her. "Have you ever known you were supposed to be somewhere, known that incalculable good would come of it, and that something was trying to stop you?" 

"Sure, I guess."

"I am on my way to an event that I had a vision of two years ago. Two months ago, I finally got an address. Today I have no money, no phone, no clothes, but I've got this plane ticket there. And I believe that has something to do with why we have to sit here and de-ice in Oakland in April. Are you a woman of faith?"

"No."

"Well, I'm going to this event for a miracle. Will you hope for something with me at 8 p.m. tonight?"

"Like what?"

"Anything you want."

"You want to hope for something?" Suddenly the woman came to life. "Hope for water. I'm from Colorado and we don't have any water. Our farmers can't even water their crops enough to get through this harvest. They have no idea what to do. 

"And while we're at it, North Korea! Someone needs to get that man from North Korea in a room and have a good talk with him." Suddenly the woman's demeanor switched. No longer lively, she became cold. Winter smiled, passed her some peanuts, and they didn't speak again the duration of the flight. 

The stewardess caught Winter's eye. She had nothing to distract her from observing the people around her, and she happened to notice that whenever the stewardess wasn't wearing her customer service smile, intense sorrow contorted her features. It looked like hysterical sobbing was about to overtake her at any given moment. 

Stewardess aboard train circa1948 to 1971

Winter prayed, releasing joy over the stewardess and asking Dad for something to say to help cheer her up. A character from Pop Kids by Davey Havok, named Holly, kept popping into her head. She kept trying to ignore Holly, asking God to speak through her disruptive imagination, but Holly wouldn't budge. 

The pilot's voice came on again. "We are at LAX, folks, but we aren't clear to land. There is a VIP situation at the hotel, so we will have to maintain a holding pattern until cleared. I apologize for the delay. This kind of thing only happens when the president is at the airport. Highly unusual."

The passengers muttered and spat dissent. The stewardess walked by, looking closer to tears than ever. Winter prayed. I am exactly where I'm supposed to be.

Time passed. Ten minutes, fifteen, thirty. The sound of sobs pulled her from her talk with Dad. They were getting louder and more desperate every moment. She turned around to see the young girl behind her, a 13 or 14 year old cheerleader, clutching her ears and weeping. The girl's mother had her arms around her, trying to comfort her. "Are you ok?" Winter asked. 

"It's her ears," said the girl's mom. 

"Can I pray for her?" They nodded. Winter tried to maneuver her hands between the seats close enough to touch the girl, but couldn't reach. Oh well, she shrugged and prayed for about ten seconds. "How do you feel?" 

The girl had stopped crying, though pain was still visible in her eyes. "Better," she said. 

"Let's keep going." After another minute, Winter asked again, "How do you feel?"

"I have no pain at all," said the girl. 

Winter turned around, the girl and her mom chatted and laughed until the plane finally touched down. 

On her way out, Winter touched the stewardess's arm and asked for a quick word. "Sure darlin', come right over here sweetheart.'"

"Thank you so much for everything," Winter began. "Im on my way to an event that has been two years in the making. I'm expecting a miracle. If you're not hoping for anything right now, would you be willing to hope for something with me at 8 p.m. tonight?"

"Of course sugar." The stewardess was friendly but the fake smile was gone. 

"And, I know this is odd, but does the name Holly mean anything to you?"

"Yes, Holly was my maiden name."

"Ok awesome. Thank you so much again! You are wonderful." And with that, Winter stepped off the plane and stood at Gate 13, looking for Esa. 

Esa stood at Gate 13 looking for Winter.

Five hours later, Winter was still alone looking for Esa. With the last of her money she bought a handkerchief printed with a map of L.A. and set off on foot for a hotel that, according to google, GPS, and telephone operators, didn't exist.