I don’t normally answer my cell phone while jogging through the woods with my best friend, but this time, I listened intently for the phone to ring. I’d received a worrying text from my husband earlier that morning concerning the health of his sister and her unborn child.
As soon as he called, I snatched my phone from the pocket of my sweatpants and grilled him on the situation. Things were bad. His sister, who lived in Nigeria and was 24 weeks into a difficult pregnancy, was being flown to Atlanta immediately for an emergency Caesarean. The hospitals in her country did not have the resources to save such a premature infant.
There are occasional moments in my life when I hear the Holy Spirit’s instructions with such clarity and insistence, they cannot be ignored. This was one of those times. He told me I needed to be at the airport when her flight landed in Atlanta.
Though this seemed impossible—I live in Vancouver, Canada, homeschool four young children, and hadn’t been on a plane in almost a decade—I was able to obey this command with no small reliance on grace.
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