Fatigue swept over me as I curled up in my seat, preparing to finish the last leg of my long flight home from a photo assignment in Nevada. Accompanying the fatigue was a chill brought on by the cool window and inner wall of the jet. Crystal clear, late-night skies spattered with stars caused me to wonder how cold it really was at our cruising altitude of 35,000 feet. I pulled on my jacket and zipped it tight, hoping it would hold back the chill for the remainder of the flight.
At the start of the flight it looked as though I would have vacant seats next to me, but at the last minute a guy slipped into an aisle seat two spots away. Oh well, I thought, at least his being farther away will probably deter any desire on his part to want to talk. Besides, I was feeling as though I shouldn't say anything--at least for the moment. In practically no time the guy had fallen asleep. Silently I prayed: "Lord, if You want me to say anything to this guy I'll need for You to give me the words."
If everything went according to plan I would arrive in Atlanta just before midnight and then head home to my warm, cozy bed. The trouble was that, despite my tiredness, the cold kept me awake. After several failed attempts at falling asleep, I resigned myself to just staring out the window. Perhaps I'd see another shooting star as I had on the flight out.
An announcement by a flight attendant woke up the guy next to me. The monotony of the flight was further disrupted when she approached our row with refreshments. I made some sort of funny remark about being too cold to want ice in my tomato juice. The guy next to me traded quips, and, before I knew it, the ice between us had broken, and I had warmed up to a fully involved conversation.
I still wasn't sure of the direction the conversation would take and for the most part just chose to ask my new acquaintance questions about himself. I've learned that, if there's any opportunity for a conversation about Christ, it must begin with a heavy dose of listening on my part. I learned he is a software designer. We talked about computers and other aspects of his profession.
I said I worked as a photographer for the North American Mission Board. That led to the topic of what I believed about the Lord and why. He discussed world religions and asked me questions I was able to answer with biblical responses. Then came the questions I could only answer by saying, "I don't know the answer to that, but I know Who does." My lack of an answer didn't seem to bother him as much as give him the impression that "here was someone who was genuine and didn't claim to know it all." I've found we're more credible if we just admit we don't know everything.
As time went on Don told me that during his childhood he had been raised in a Southern Baptist home but was no longer attending church. The depth and candor of our conversation surprised me. Much of Don's side of the conversation centered on the belief systems of non-Christian religions. I was able to assure him that what differentiates Christianity from them is that Christianity involves a relationship with a living God--Jesus Christ--Who wants to cultivate a day-to-day love relationship with us. I told Don that He desires that same relationship with him. I explained that through this relationship rules are not the basis for behavior, but the change of heart governs our desire to serve the Lord. Don's questions were challenging and helped me to examine why I believe what I believe about Jesus.
Suddenly it occurred to me that I would have missed this opportunity had I not been chilly and unable to sleep. By breaking the ice with the passenger next to me God was again saying: "Just take the initiative, and I'll do the rest."
When we exited the plane, we discovered that our cars were parked in the same lot. The walk gave us a few more minutes to talk. Had Don been uneasy with my discussing Christ with him he could have chosen a different route to his car. Instead he chose to walk alongside me.
Gibbs Frazeur, photography managergfrazeur@namb.net