That’s not crazy, that’s God.
“If I stay, my life will amount to nothing,” I thought as I drove around downtown Kansas City. I had a flight, but I was terrified. Did I actually just go through all of this for nothing?
It can’t be so. If I leave, I leave my calling, my anointing, my power. If I leave, I become nothing. If I stay, I become nothing…So, what do I do?
Then, he saw me. At a red light, he came slamming up to the window. Screaming to let him in the car. He took my phone, and told me, “Everything would get a lot worse.” There was no explaining, only time to think, “What do I do to survive?”
We drove to the restaurant I had been working at, which was aware of my situation. He told me to go inside and order him food, as I slyly grabbed my last twenty dollar bill and ID holder. He said, “Let something happen when you go in there.”
I walked inside, said nothing to my coworkers, looked at my manager and said, “Call the police”, as I walked up the stairs. I locked myself in that small office with one outfit, no cell phone, and twenty bucks. The police came, took my report. He drove off in my car with all of my belongings, and the police drove me to a shelter.
I spent the night after crying my way through intake. It was freezing cold, with lights on and a blanket that didn’t fit my body. I woke up the next day, and wondered what would I do next.
Then, the angels came: my college best friend, an uber driver, a few Southwest employees, a few strangers, and a woman in Atlanta.
Samantha, my best friend from college, called back the strange number that called her, and got me an uber to the airport. Without question, without thought as to what the hell is going on or how hurt she felt by me, she came to my rescue. That’s not crazy, that’s God.
The Uber driver, an older gentleman in his 60’s, reassured me a woman should never be treated like I had been. He then bought me breakfast and handed me a $10 bill. He refused to let me go hungry or without money. That’s not crazy, that’s God.
I walked up to the ticketing line, it was 9 am. Afraid that someone might be looking for me, I stood patiently without a ticket. 15 minutes later and a few calls to some supervisors, the Southwest ticketing agent had me on a flight for 9:45 am. Post-9/11, I was to the airport and on a flight in 45 mins without a ticket? That’s not crazy, that’s God.
A stranger let me borrow his phone before take off where I left voicemails to friends to let them know my whereabouts and next moves… my iPhone X was gone, and I was alone. That’s not crazy, that’s God.
I landed in ATL, and asked the ticketing agents if I could be bumped to the earlier flights. My life is in shambles, I have nothing, I just want to be home. They told me no… As I walked back to the original flight asking to re-board, the Southwest employee looked at me, as I teared up, and said, “Let me have your boarding pass.”
As he called someone, a woman looked at me and said, “It will all work out! Do you want to come sit with me?” As I sat down, she said, “You are escaping something aren’t you?” As I tearfully nodded, she said, “I knew it. God told me you grabbed all you could and left, and it is all going to be okay.” That’s not crazy, that’s God.
No less than a minute later, the gentleman with Southwest came back and said, “My supervisor really likes me… I never ask for anything. Go tell them to print your boarding pass.” That’s not crazy, that’s God.
What was meant to be a 10 hour travel day, just got cut into a 6 hour day. My friends got in touch with my parents, and my grandfather was able to pick me up from the airport.
I came home with nothing, banged and bruised, but there were angels. People helping along the way. And, it wasn’t crazy, it was God.
