Destiny--Yes or No?

Destiny--Yes or No?

Do you believe in destiny?  It is an interesting question.  For some that question interferes with their faith beliefs.  For others it is a way of life.

Destiny is defined in the dictionary as the mysterious power that some people believe controls what happens.  Another definition states that destiny is the thing that you will do or the type of person you will become in the future.

"Mysterious power."  For me that would be the God who desires that I live my life in service to others. That I see need and make an attempt to fill it.  That I listen with my heart--listen  much more than talk.
That I know in the core of my being that often I am given only one opportunity to make a difference and to take full advantage of it.

So, with all of that said, allow me to share a sweet experience while sitting in the Seattle Airport recently.  We had a two hour layover in Seattle on our way to Portland, Oregon.  After treating myself to coffee, we found a row of seats and plopped down.  We both enjoy guessing where people are going, and who they will see.  Many people passed in front of us, and our imaginations ran wild.  Most were ordinary folks hurrying to catch the next plane that would fly them to their final destination.  Among them were young and old, mothers and babies, young women in very high heels, others in tennis shoes.  All had backpacks or roller cases.  Many were talking on cell phones.

One man caught our attention.  He wore a black felt cowboy hat, cowboy boots, a suit and tie with an overcoat, and carried a beautiful beige leather bag.  He walked up the corridor and a few minutes later  back down.  I do that, too, when in an airport.  I often take long walks to keep the blood flowing following a long flight of sitting.

On his last pass in front of us he noticed the chairs where we were seated and came over.  As he sat down, he spoke to us.  And then he looked at me and told me that his daughter is dying of cancer.  I was stunned by his words and moved down the two seats to sit beside him.

I asked him if he wanted to tell me about his daughter.  He said yes.  She is 31 years old.  She has two young children.  A little over two years ago she began to have back aches that were more than the regular ones we all have.  The doctor she visited told her it was probably nothing and did the usual with muscle relaxants.  But the pain did not go away.  Several tests later she was diagnosed with incurable cancer.   The doctors performed surgery and told he and her mother that her insides looked like tapioca pudding.  They were told that all those small tumors would eventually grow into very large ones that would attack all the vital organs.  She is now at that point.

He was in Seattle to help a man with a business plan and received a call to come home.  She is now in Hospice.  Pain management is the medicine of choice.  Her time on earth is very limited.

After he shared his story, I told him that I had been a Hospice volunteer, and that it is a wonderful program.  His wife had told him the same thing.  He told me about all the people who have been praying for the family.  Their faith and the love and care of friends and doctors has kept them grounded as they walk this unfamiliar path.

I won't go into all of our conversation, but I will share that at one point I asked him if it would be acceptable with him if we prayed together.  His eyes teared as he reached for my hands.  We held hands, and I asked for strength to move through the next phase of her life and for people to surround the family with love and care.

Was it destiny that we met in the airport in Seattle?  Was it destiny that he told me about his daughter?  Was it destiny that we prayed and shared addresses?

I don't know.  What I do know is that Eric and I shared one moment in time, and I am forever grateful for the opportunity to listen to his story and offer a tiny bit of caring in a busy airport.

We all have choice.  I could have said I was sorry that his daughter is so ill and turned back to people gazing.  My choice was to open myself to his story.  By doing that I am forever changed.  It was only a moment in time amid noise, announcements and airport confusion, but it made a lasting impression on me.

No doubt our paths will never cross again.  But I will always remember that precious moment when two people took a chance to communicate on a very deep level.