Two weeks ago, I had the pleasure of working in the beautiful climate of San Diego, California. While it was work and I am often burdened by the feeling that my work is never done, the opportunity to achieve such tasks overlooking the ocean seemed to supply me with a peaceful feeling that is rarely experienced in other environments. Besides, it also provided me with a very gracious pardon from the exhausting Texas heat and humidity. And even though I hated to leave the cool ocean air of San Diego, I must say, it does feel good to be home.
Every morning, before beginning my day, I quietly thank God for another opportunity at life and then proceed to ask him to use me. Every day, it is my desire that God uses me to touch others. “Lord, use me. Allow your light to shine through me. Order my steps so that I may continue to be an ambassador to your kingdom. Allow others to experience your love through me.” Each day, this is my aim. Although I can never be certain of how, when, or where I will be used, I clearly understand that at some point throughout the day, my actions and attitude will be used as a witness to God’s love. On June 27th, one of those opportunities would present itself on the airplane as I made my long-awaited trip home from San Diego.
My preflight routine remained the same. Check voicemail. Return important email messages via my cell phone. And in a last minute attempt to relax before the flight, I will play whatever video game (on my phone) that I have seemed to get addicted to for that week. That day, it was dominoes. “We are now boarding rows 10 and higher,” the airline gate attendant announced.
“That’s me,” I thought. After handing the gate attendant my boarding pass, I eagerly proceeded down the jetway to the aircraft. At that point, there were only two things that excited me—the fact that I was finally headed home and the long three hour nap that I planned to take in the process. As I made my way onto the plane, I casually passed several rows as I attempted to match the numbers on my boarding pass with those above the seats. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. “Here I am. 11D,” I politely said to a passenger that seemed confused about their assigned seating arrangement. However, as I took my personally requested aisle seat, I couldn’t help but notice the gentleman that sat directly across from me. He was a big guy. Okay, that’s an understatement; he was a VERY big guy. As a matter of fact, he looked like he could have eaten me twice and still would have been hungry. And as much as I tried not to notice his obvious discomfort in the restrictive airplane seat, his overt frustrations seemed to command my attention, as he aggressively struggled to fasten his seat belt. He pulled; he yanked and adjusted the belt until it would give no more. He tried everything he could to fasten the seat belt around his wide body. The immature kid in me wanted to burst into uncontrollable laughter. However, the gentleman in me, simply wanted to give the man a hand. So, for the next five minutes, I sat there watching this man struggle to achieve the same level of safety that everyone else was privileged to obtain. He pulled. He yanked and wrestled. Beads of sweat began to fall from his face. He twisted and turned. And just when it seemed that he would forfeit in defeat, he took in one last deep breath and finally heard the click of the seat belt. “Whew,” he yelled as he experienced what would soon be a short lived victory. And while I was just as proud as he was about his recent victory with the seat belt, it was quite obvious that he still had not succeeded in his bout with his discomfort, as the pressure of the newly fastened seat belt began to cut off his circulation. But, at that point, it didn’t matter. His seat belt was fastened and that’s the only thing he seemed to care about.
Several minutes later, the flight attendants began to prepare for takeoff. As they began to close the doors to the aircraft, several late passengers darted onto the plane rushing to take their seats. As several of them passed by my row in search of their seats, I noticed one woman slowly strolling through the aisles attempting to match the numbers on her boarding pass with those above the seats: Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. “That’s my seat,” she said as she looked at my rotund aisle-mate. As he graciously unfastened his seat belt, preparing to give the woman access to her assigned seat, all I could think about was the trouble that he had gone through to fasten it the first time.
“Uh oh. Here we go again,” I thought as I watched the frustration on his face. And while much of this episode still had its comedic moments, much of what I felt was sorrow for what seemed to be a man that struggled to fit in. And once again, he struggled. He yanked and wrestled with that same belt that seemed to get the best of him before. And as the flight attendant made the announcement for all seatbelts to be fastened, I wondered if this man had any remaining energy to achieve another victory.
I began to feel sorry for him. The curse words that rang from his mouth were clearly inspired more by his embarrassment than his frustration with the belt. And just when I knew that he had completely exhausted all of his energy, I politely asked the flight attendant for a seat belt extension. Handing the extension to my neighbor, I politely said, “I noticed that you were having a little trouble and I wanted to give you a little help. Here you go.”
Not sure whether to take my gesture as an insult or a genuine act of kindness, he embarrassingly dropped his head and accepted the extension. “Hey. There’s no need to be embarrassed. You’re no different from anyone on this plane. It’s just that sometimes in life, we have to make adjustments,” I said.
“You’re right. Thank you,” he said.
“What’s your name?” I asked, sparking a conversation that I never anticipated having.
“Felix,” he replied.
“Hi, Felix. I’m Chris. Where are you from?” I asked.
“Puerto Rico.”
“That’s a beautiful place,” I responded.
“Hey. Thank you for your help. I’m so embarrassed. I am a very proud man and usually never ask for help for anything,” Felix confessed.
“You know, we are more alike than you think,” I replied. It was at that point that I began to see myself in the very man that I internally mocked. As a matter of fact, many of us are just like Felix. There were times that Felix came very close to fastening his seat belt. One simple request for help could have gotten him to his goal. However, his pride caused him to not only prolong, but intensify his struggle.
Sometimes we may be very close to achieving our goals. However our pride prevents us from utilizing the various resources that we have at our disposal. This, in turn, causes us to delay our successful arrival to our destination. And as our struggles intensify, we begin to get overwhelmed and later quit. I encourage everyone, let’s lay down our pride and allow others to help us. What’s the point of establishing resources if we don’t utilize them. And for those that aren’t requiring any particular assistance right now, be a valuable resource to someone else. Like I told Felix at the conclusion of our conversation, “No one can do anything alone. For you to walk into your greatness, you must depend on God and the people that God has given you.” Thank you.
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