I’ve experienced many unanswered prayers throughout my life, or rather prayers that weren’t answered the way I wanted them to be answered. Today I needed to remind myself of God’s faithfulness. I can recall so many times He’s shown me His mercy and grace. 

A few answers to prayers were particularly stunning. For the sake of space, I’ll only recount a few here.

When Dane was just an infant, Bob took a job running the Karaoke at the bar across the street from his work. Sometimes he wouldn’t get home until three in the morning. It was taking a toll on our marriage. When I went up to watch him I was shocked to learn he’d even acquired groupies! No wonder he wasn’t inclined to give it up. Rather than rant and rave about it (my usual modus operandi), I decided to pray about it. I kid you not, the very next day the place burned to the ground and was never rebuilt. Talk about being gobsmacked!

Another time, I was taking my cousin Cassie on a buddy pass to attend my grandmother’s funeral in Florida. Even though Cassie had been married for years, I’d used her maiden name on her reservation. I didn’t realize what I’d done until the TSA agent asked her why the name on her boarding pass didn’t match the name on her driver’s license. She sweetly replied that she’d gotten married. This was post 9/11, my ditzy mistake could have nixed our plans right there and then, but we were allowed to proceed to the gate without even any additional screening.

There were several empty seats on the flight when I checked, but I hadn’t counted on over thirty standby passengers. I was at the top of the list, so I knew I was going to get a seat, but Cassie was at the bottom, there was no way she was getting a seat. I walked over to give her the bad news. 

Before I could speak, she said she’d been sitting there praying and had complete peace about it, everything was going to work out and…

“Is there someone who can come get you?” I rudely interrupted, blithely waving away any possibility of Divine intervention.

Before she could answer, the gate agent called her name and gave her a boarding pass. I was stunned! Ashamed of myself for doubting the power of prayer and in awe of God’s goodness.

How do the words, “all I can do is pray about it” ever come out of my mouth??? The Creator of the universe asks us to call Him Father and encourages us to pour out our requests to Him. It’s not all I can do, it is the most I can do.

When a child asks for a piece of bread, does a good father give him a rock instead? How much more will our Father in Heaven give good gifts to those who ask Him? (Matthew 7:9-11)

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” Philippians 4:6

When Brett was born, in an attempt to encourage us, several people relayed the same basic story. It went something like this: A family planned to move to Italy but landed in Sweden instead. It wasn’t where they wanted to be! It wasn’t where they'd prepared to go! But once they accepted Sweden as their new home, their eyes were opened to all the beauty (albeit a very different kind of beauty) of Sweden, and they lived happily ever after. It didn’t resonate with me. I remember thinking Siberia might have been a better analogy.

I have an actual, first hand experience of landing in a country I didn’t plan on landing in, one I wasn't t prepared to land in, but nonetheless found myself in. 

In 1999, Tammy and I decided it was a must that we visit Hong Kong before the British cede the city to China. We make all the arrangements and off we go, even managing to sit in the upper deck on a 747 on our first leg to Tokyo.

Unfortunately we run into a slight glitch. We’ve landed on the wrong day. You’d think, being flight attendants, we’d have some grasp of how the international date line works. But we didn’t. We thought we were arriving on a Thursday, but we landed on a Friday.

Turns out there isn’t even the remotest chance we’ll get on a flight to Hong Kong on a Friday night. Tammy is furious. It was the hotel told who told her what day we were arriving. It was their fault, now ours.

Bottom line, we are now in Tokyo with nowhere to go. The agent suggested Seoul. Nah, been there, done that. How about Bangkok? There is good shopping. Sure. What the heck?

Turns out, not only should we have educated ourselves on time lines but on geography as well. As soon as we reach cruising altitude, we are told the flight time. Over eight hours!!! We want off! We don’t have time for this! Good heavens! It took us less than 12 hours to get all the way from Detroit to Tokyo. Is Thailand on another continent or what? Well, it’s too late now, we’ll just have to make the best of our 18 hours in Bangkok.

The cab ride to the hotel is harrowing, the little Buddha glued to the top of the dashboard is in perpetual motion as we bounce our way through broken roads and enormous potholes. There is no rhyme or reason for the traffic flow and we narrowly miss other vehicles, bikes, and dogs. Yes, dogs! Lots of them, apparently all without owners.

Perhaps most alarming of all, we appear to be one of the very few not wearing face masks.  

After a quick night’s rest, we get up in the morning ready to shop at the famed shopping center. We ask for directions from the man at the front desk. Communicating isn’t easy, but when he finally understands we’re asking about the shopping center he answers, “Ahhhh. Burn down.”

Our little trip is going from bad to worse. We’re so tired, we’re slap happy and turn to each other and repeat “burn down” and laugh so much we can hardly stand up. I can’t imagine what the poor little man thought of us (sadly, mimicking his accent) and laughing so uproariously over such a tragic event.

We have about six hours before catching our flight back to Tokyo, so we bravely set out to explore the city. We pick our way through the broken up concrete sidewalks, stray dogs and masked Thai people. I have to admit I'm finding the masks a wee bit disconcerting…might we be breathing in the actual “plague of death?”

We’re in an open air shopping area when I realize I need to find a restroom. Immediately. When I find one, I realize (in the nick of time) that there’s no toilet paper. I hustle back out and, sure enough I missed the lady at the door selling squares of toilet paper. Please, can I just take the roll and we can sort it out when I'm done? No. Must buy first. 

I tear off a swath I pray is adequate and she counts each square to determine how many bahts it will cost me. We had jokingly started pronouncing their currency “bites.” I think it cost me about thirty bites to use the restroom. Calling it a “rest” room is a sad misnomer as they don’t have toilets…it’s like squatting over a concrete shower base. If nothing else, I got in a good quad workout.

Another nerve wracking cab ride back to the airport. Another spastically bouncing Budha on the dashboard.

When we get to the gate we’re informed we’re not likely to get seats…possibly not for days. Days? Are you kidding me?? We’re not laughing now. We’re praying our hearts out, pleading with God to allow us to get out of there. And by His grace, we did. 

Back to the story that was meant to comfort us when we found about Brett’s condition—I was wrong to think Siberia was a better analogy. God has been faithful in not only allowing us to accept Brett as a gift, but also the peace that comes from knowing he is His perfect plan for our life, we "landed" right where God intended us to land.