Part 4: The Big Day

Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? (Matt. 6:27)

Thursday

The big day arrives. After four months of eating, sleeping, breathing job fair, I am more prepared than I've ever been for anything. The week of the fair, I am racked with angst. Usually a dreamless sleeper, I begin to experience vivid dreams depicting every possible worst-case scenario: delayed flight, lost luggage, car accident, or defective hotel alarm clock. Is our God sovereign or not? I can't remember.

Though I had disseminated my resume, cover letter and references to 15 international schools two weeks prior, I have only heard back from three requesting interviews. My dream school in Lebanon replied to tell me I am required to have 6-8 years of demonstrated experience in specific curriculum strategies. BLAH. Honestly, I don't know what to think. I wonder what it would feel like to come home from the fair three days from now with a job. That notion seems almost surreal. I ponder how I will handle myself if I return without a job. Ever terrified of disappointment and unmet "expectations", that thought lurks below my subconscious despite my better efforts.

4:08am I wake with a start. I check my list twice. Nothing like over-preparedness. I pack house and home, yet within the confines of a single carry-on piece. Checked luggage? No way, Jose! I will arrive clean and clothed.

1:40pm I leave school immediately after 7th period; my ride to the airport is seamless.

3:05pm As I approach the American Airlines counter, I notice a "minor" detail: my 4:40 flight to Dallas is delayed by two hours, rendering my connecting flight to Cedar Rapids an impossibility. Exactly what I had worried about. Immediately, I am overcome by panic and...ANGER. Smoke billows from my nostrils. I knew better than to fly AA. I've never had an on-time flight with AA and they lost my suitcase on the way home from Morocco. I throw myself a pity party. Everyone is invited. It is the event of the season. I mournfully reflect on the ungodly amount of time, money, and effort I had poured into this venture. I assume this is the end. Poor me. Why is life so unfair?

So dramatic.

3:13pm After a long, snaking line, I step up to the counter. The AA counter clerk feeds me some lame excuse as to the Houston-Dallas delay. She tells me I am pretty much out of luck. Oh wait. There is a Houston-Chicago flight that she could try to get me on. If I run, I might be able to make it. She reassures me: "Listen sweetie. No guarantees you're makin it to Iowa. There's a blizzard in Chicago and most of the flights are cancelled. Don't get your hopes up or anything." In spite of my calm exterior, I will blow a gasket any second.

3:35pm Fleet as an olympian, I race through security, to the terminal. I can't find my gate as listed on the ticket. I pace the terminal. Where is it? WHERE IS IT? In my panic-stricken state, I cannot seem to think clearly. All of a sudden, my name is announced over the intercom: "Please come immediately to gate 29". The gate is sealed behind me as I board.

3:55pm I strike up a conversation with the Spanish man beside me and learn that the airplane, filled to capacity, has been stalled on the runway since 12noon. The lady who had originally booked my seat, was angered by the delay and walked off the plane 20 minutes before I arrived at the airport. Perfect timing. Thank you, Lord. In light of God's obvious provision, I still refuse to unhand my cynicism and negativity. I am convinced that the worst is yet to come. Even if we make it to Chicago, my next flight surely will be cancelled. At the very least, my flight will be delayed, the rental car place will close and I will be stranded in Cedar Rapids.

4:17pm We finally take off. The plane explodes in applause.

4:40pm The pilot announces that the plane will fly 600 mph to recover up some lost time. For the duration of the flight, blood-curdling screams emanate from a toddler one row in front of mine. I read through Philippians 4 and journal about my anxiety and lack of faith. Please help me Lord. I am hopelessly faithless.

6:18pm Landing. I can't help but notice the abundance of snow on the ground and floating through the air and a digital welcome: "Welcome to Chicago O'Hare. 6 F." Excellent. Okay, Lord. I'm trying to trust you. I snatch up my suitcase and run the length of the airport. ORD is so delightful. No time for din-din. I could eat my face off.

6:35pm Snow is pouring forth from the heavens. Nearly all flights out of ORD are delayed or cancelled. The 6:30 flight to Cedar Rapids (CID) is delayed indefinitely. My flight is due to leave at 9:15. I implore the AA rep to add me to the 6:30 flight standby list, though my chances of making the flight are slim with fifteen travelers ahead of me. I return to my seat to wait, pray, and call people.

7:45pm The "6:30" flight to CID is now boarding. After much deliberation with the AA rep and a computer systems error (his unit wouldn't add me to the flight initially), I am added to the early flight. Relief! After we sit on the runway for another 90 minutes while ice is scraped off the plane, I am all the more thankful God allowed me to fly on the earlier ride.

9:15pm Take-off.

10:20pm Cedar Rapids, IA. It is colder than cold. I scurry to find the rental car desk. After all, I still have to drive to Waterloo. The desk clerk graciously upgrades my compact car to a full-size: "You probably can't drive in ice and snow can you?" Hmmmmmmm...might the TEXAS A&M shirt have tipped you off? As the clerk hands me keys and a map and bids me adieu, I inquire offhandedly as to the distance to Waterloo. "Oh it's about 75 miles north, a nice little drive." OH. CRAP. What have I done? For whatever reason, I was convinced that Cedar Rapids was 12miles away. NO, that would be Cedar Falls- 12 miles from Waterloo. Cedar Falls, Cedar River, Cedar Rapids. Apparently, they aren't all the same. Whatever.

10:38pm At this point, I want to cry. I am past exhausted. I am exhausted AND emotional. I have been up for nearly 19 hours. I am in a strange city. I have a 1 1/2 hour drive to Waterloo...wherever that is. I don't know where I am going. It is icy. I haven't eaten in 12 hours. I am lightheaded. I have to wake up in 5.5 hours. And worst of all, I am cold. I arrive at my car and find it caked in ice and snow. Where do I begin? I can't even find the alleged ice scraper. I begin to scrape with my hands. I give myself a pep-talk and pull myself together.

10:45pm On the road and back in business. I find my way out of Cedar Rapids without incident. Thank you, Jesus! The drive is easy enough. I pass at least five machines salting the roadways. The ice freaks me out, but the highways are respectable. Iowa: color me impressed! Side note: did you know Quaker Oats is located outside Cedar Rapids? Neither did I. As I pass the Quaker plant, I wonder if I could buy oatmeal at cost.

12:10am Waterloo, IA. I arrive at the motel. I know the Lord must have directed my path because I didn't have to turn around once.

12:30am I unload my things and spot a Wendy's adjacent to the motel with an open drive-thru window. I return to the motel, crank up the heater, and scarf down my Asian Chicken Salad. I have never been more grateful for warmth and sustenance.

1:02am I shower, lay out my clothes, pack my computer bag, and check my directions to the fair one last time.

2:04am Set two alarms and order a wake up call. Collapse into bed. Day is done. He is supremely good to me; my rotten, faithless attitude doesn't merit an ounce of it.The