My eyes started scanning for my six pieces of luggage, as the carousel slowly hummed around. The murmur of Spanish surrounded me, along with the thump and bumps of the suitcases. Even with the lady beside me, I felt alone. I repeated in my mind, Jesus I have your hand and I need you to guide me. The woman with me said she needed to go. “No problem, gulp, I’ll follow the crowd.” I profusely thanked her for the help. The carousel stopped with a jerk, and I think the operator said there wasn’t any more. Now what do I do? Not one piece of my luggage arrived.

Arrangements had been made for a family missionary friend to meet me at the airport. I’d never seen her before, but since she was white and tall—and Guatemalans are dark and short—I had a good chance of recognizing her. Entering the lobby felt like walking into the twilight zone. Anybody from the street could come to the upper-level balcony and wait for their friend or family member who entered below. The custom called for families to come, and they crammed in like sardines, hurling greetings to those below. Outside, noises of revving bus motors, blasting horns, screeching tires, and people selling their wares made my ears throb. I looked for the white face amongst the dark, and found it a challenge. When people left, others crowded into the empty spots. She wasn’t there. After about thirty minutes, I became concerned. Then I went into near panic as I realized I had no contact information for her or the school where I would teach or for anybody in this city. Okay, Lord, I need a plan. I felt some calmness when I remembered the rainbow and Whose hand I held.

I stood there in the airport as travelers zoomed past me. There were no places to sit or bathrooms, and I didn’t dare go outside.This is a third-world country with a high crime rate. I had been warned to wait inside. I intently looked for somebody, anybody who looked like they could assist me. The Lord would show me who. I just had to be patient—not my best virtue.

Thirty more minutes passed, and a large missionary team came in. The primary colors on the white shirts reminded me of the rainbow of hope. I went up to two of the ladies and explained my situation. They suggested I come with them to the hotel, and their Guatemalan lawyer friend would help me find my friend. It all sounded good, but I felt like I needed to wait longer. One of the ladies gave me a note on a business card to give to one of their team, who would fly in soon. I calmed down but gripped that bitty card. God’s plan was in hand.

Suddenly, I heard my name from the balcony, and looked in that direction. I had to plant my feet to keep from jumping for joy when I spotted the tall lady with the huge smile. At that moment, the second half of the missionary team entered the lobby area. I took the card to one of them and explained that my friend had arrived and I was safe. The rainbow of hope became more brilliant in my mind’s eye.

I barely heard my friend apologize as she said, “I’m sorry we are thirty minutes late. We got tied up with an Alaskan team. You’ll meet them at the house.” To this day, my friend does not know that she was one and a half hours late. (She may know now if she reads this.) We dealt with the lost luggage and we were assured I could get it the next day. Ha! It was three days later.

I walked outside of the airport, and suddenly the noises didn’t irritate, but intrigued me. I entered a new and different world with excitement and anticipation, despite the emotional roller coaster I just went through. I had a new life, a new chapter, and an assurance that the Lord would guide and help me through times of uncertainty. I was ready to enter the mission field and wanted to see more of this new country and culture.

I still find myself reacting in difficulties and then having to apologize to the Lord for not focusing on His promises. Do you have a story to share about how the Lord gave you a plan during a crisis time? I think of the song, God Will Make a Way and sing it over and over when the way seems impossible. We can trust in God’s plans, whether the issue be small or humungous. In this case, the plan I thought He gave me wasn’t the plan, but He made a way for me.