When You Feel Lost, Look for Your Help to Arrive

My flight was delayed—­again—­and as I’d been sitting for over three hours, I decided to stretch my legs and walk the length of the airport concourse. I saw a woman sitting by herself at an empty gate, and I could tell that she was crying. She had pulled a headscarf down over her face, but her shoulders were shaking. I sat down beside her and waited. After a few moments she lifted her head and looked at me.

“Can I help?” I asked.

Lost and Alone

She shook her head and said something, but it was in a language I didn’t recognize or understand. She was clutching a piece of paper in her right hand, and I touched it, as if to ask if I could see it. Reluctantly, she passed it to me. It was a phone number, so I decided to call the number, hoping whoever was on the other end could help.

When a man answered, I tried to explain what was going on, describing the woman as best I could. He told me it was his mother. I passed the phone to her, and her face lit up. I sat for a few minutes and then watched as joy, peace, and relief washed over her in waves. When she gave the phone back to me, her son explained that she was waiting at the wrong gate.

An airline employee was supposed to meet her, but that had fallen through the cracks. I assured him that I would get her to the right gate. As she boarded her flight, she hugged me tightly, this time with tears of joy running down her face.

Emmanuel

Her story has stayed with me. It must be terrifying to be in a place where you don’t understand what anyone is saying. It reminded me of one of my favorite Christmas stories. The original author is unknown, but Paul Harvey used to share it on his radio program each Christmas. 

The man I’m going to tell you about was not a scrooge, he was a kind, decent, mostly good man. Generous to his family and upright in his dealings with other men. But he just didn’t believe in all of that incarnation stuff that the churches proclaim at Christmastime. It just didn’t make sense and he was too honest to pretend otherwise. He just couldn’t swallow the Jesus story, about God coming to earth as a man.

He told his wife I’m truly sorry to distress you, but I’m not going with you to church this Christmas Eve. He said he would feel like a hypocrite and that he would much rather just stay at home, but that he would wait up for them. So he stayed and they went to the midnight service.

Minutes later he was startled by a thudding sound. Then another . . . and then another. At first he thought someone must be throwing snowballs against the living room window. But when he went to the front door to investigate he found a flock of birds huddled outside miserably in the snow. They’d been caught in the storm and in a desperate search for shelter they had tried to fly through his large landscape window. That is what had been making the sound.

Quickly, he put on a coat and galoshes and he tramped through the deepening snow to the barn. He opened the doors wide and turned on a light so the birds would know the way in. But the birds did not come in.

The birds continued to flap around helplessly in the snow. He tried catching them but could not. He tried shooing them into the barn by walking around and waving his arms. 

And that’s when he realized they were afraid of him. To them, he reasoned, I am a strange and terrifying creature. If only I could think of some way to let them know that they can trust me. That I am not trying to hurt them, but to help them. But how?

He thought to himself, if only I could be a bird and mingle with them and speak their language. Then I could tell them not to be afraid. Then I could show them the way to the safe warm . . . to the safe warm barn. But I would have to be one of them so they could see . . . and hear . . . and understand.

At that moment the church bells began to ring. The sound reached his ears above the sounds of the wind.

He stood there listening to the bells, Adeste Fidelis, listening to the bells pealing the glad tidings of Christmas.

And he sank to his knees in the snow . . .

God Sees Us

It’s a beautiful story but a profound truth. Jesus came in human form to rescue us and to show us what God is like. My friend at the airport thought she was lost until help arrived; the story of Christmas is that help has come. God saw us broken and lost, and that’s why Jesus came.

Reflection:

When you feel lost, stuck, or alone, who do you reach to for help? Is God the first person on your list? If not, what’s keeping you from making God the first person you turn to when things get difficult?

If you liked this post, we recommend The Gifts of Christmas by Sheila Walsh. If you’ve been feeling overwhelmed and exhausted by what Christmas has become, this beautiful Advent devotional will refresh your faith, reactivate your wonder, and restore your joy.

We also recommend The Little Drummer Girl by Sheila Walsh! Filled with witty rhymes and whimsical illustrations, The Little Drummer Girl helps children ages 3 to 5 understand how an awful day can turn into the greatest day of all. It’s the perfect new Christmas picture book to read with your family this year.

Sheila Walsh is an author, Bible teacher, three-time Grammy nominee, and television host who has spoken to over six million people around the world. She cohosts several shows, including Praise and Better Together on TBN, America’s most-watched faith and family channel. Sheila’s books have sold nearly six million copies and include bestsellers like It’s Okay Not to Be Okay and The Hope of Heaven. Originally from Scotland, Sheila lives in Texas with her husband.