90 Minutes in Heaven, and the Dallas-Ft. Worth Airport

I think we all have love-hate relationships with airports. I could go on about what I hate, but hey, it is a new year so let's start off on a good note.

I just finished reading 90 Days in Heaven while I was waiting for my co-worker to meet me in the Dallas-Fort Worth airport for our connecting flight to San Diego, CA. It seems as though everyone I have met who has read this book had a life changing experience. Most mornings I would find my mother in tears with her morning coffee as she read of Don Piper's religious experience with death. I never specifically asked anyone what it was about the book that changed them, but I was under the impression it had something to do with his first hand experience in heaven and how God worked through him. I must say I am glad I did not ask, because fortunately I got something else out of his story.

I cry at books. I cry at sad children and sad animals. I cry at commercials, soldiers and the news...every morning. Strangely, I do not think I cry that much about God. I does not mean He does not effect me, but I guess I have a certain level of understanding of Him and His love, I do not feel the need to cry at every religious experience I hear. So, when I read 90 Minutes in Heaven, I kept waiting for the big moment. I was a little concerned there was not going to be one when the whole heavenly experience was over in the second or third chapter. I thought that part was supposed to take my breath away?

To my surprise, something else about his story hit home for me. It was the examples of friends, acquaintances and strangers who selflessly acted for others. A retired preacher who did not have a close personal relationship with Don Piper, but had enough respect for him to put him in his place in order to help heal a part of Don's soul. A church member who was so excited Don allowed him to do something for him that he went down 22 floors just to collect every magazine he could hold so Don could choose. A young woman who drove 40 minutes each way to the hospital just to be able to give Don a strawberry milkshake. His son, laying his head on Don's chest each afternoon only hoping it helped just a little.

These are the acts that make life worth living. I wish I could say I have dedicated my life to this type of service, but I have not. When I do perform an act of this nature I feel good about myself, I feel connected to someone or something I did not know before, I see a difference in someone else's eyes. It is a time when strangers move together as one to help a brother or sister as we are all the children of God. Even if the service is a minor one, anything is more than nothing.

While I am sitting here in the airport and spend the next few days surrounded by strangers in San Diego, CA, I hope to help a little more. I smile at all children and tell their parents how beautiful they are, even if they are acting out. I smiled at the scary man on the plane nobody wanted to sit next to. I helped a woman who's child spilled her drink. I sat behind a mother with two girls she is having some difficulty calming down on the plane. The children have black on their teeth, but their manners are exquisite with "excuse me"s and "thank you"s. I do not know her story and I do not need to, but she needs to hear she is a good mother.

I realize this entry has a lot of "I"s in it and speaks a lot about how I feel and what I did and what I am going to do. I need to work on that. But what I hope you get from this is that the voice, the touch, the support of a stranger can change a life. It can give them just a moment they can think back on to keep it up, in hopes it will pay forward.

Maybe if I stop looking at things like the airport as frustrating and more like opportunity, a few more people will smile today.