Monday, September 15, 2014

On Nuns in the Airport

The last two times I've flown, I've left Denver on a Saturday morning. This Saturday was just as bad as the last. People walked slower than glacier, and took up the entire hall. They presented baggage claim tickets to the TSA instead of a boarding pass, and they had no idea why they had to take off their shoes and things out of their pockets. Guys, this has been the policy for the past 13 years. None of this is new. All of this, and more, happened at DIA this weekend. If I can help it, I'm never going to travel on a Saturday again. 

So there I am, riding up the escalator instead of walking because the guy in front of me is taking up the entire thing. I'm irritated, but I'm not going to be late for my flight so I'm trying, but miserably failing, to choose love and instead of harboring hate in my heart. I weave through more leisure travelers and sigh when I approach my gate. 

Then I see her.

beautiful nun, in a full, navy habit. She has a white wimple, and a black veil.

image via.

Without thinking, I walk up to her and call, "hello, Sister!"

We talked for maybe two minutes. At the end of the conversation, she asked for my name and promised that she and all her sisters would offer their rosary for me that night.

I walked away with a little skip in my step, and I completely forgot my airport woes.

I don't know her name, and I never will. But when I saw her across the airport, I sensed the peace, love, kindness, hope, and joy that radiated out of her. And in just under two minutes, she transferred all that and more to me.

That was a gift that Blessed Mother Teresa had. She a remarkable ability to make every. single. person. she encountered feel like they were the most important person on Earth in the moments she was with them. She was so filled with Jesus that just in being who she was, others felt the transforming power of his love.

image via.

I want to be like that.

Jesus, make me be so filled with your love that when others encounter me they no longer see me, but only you.

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