Faith while stuck in the airport

"When you have faith, you move"

The words flowed not like a soothing line from a homily, but hissed from mocha colored puckered lips. This irritated woman had been standing in a line of approximately forty people impatiently waiting for the gate agent to increase her productivity. The woman, sporting huge Gucchi glasses on the top of her head, an affront to the winter blizzard howling outside, obviously had reached the end of her rope. It was clear that style was very important to her in her aging years (she was perhaps over 65) as she was sporting a tailored jacket and matched her glasses to her handbag.

But her attitude was monstrous. And she was taking it out on the man beside her.

Those words clutched to me. "When you have faith, you move." I only caught these words, and they hung there. Singular, and naked. It was clear that no one was going anywhere, either fast or slow, and this lack of movement festered a sense of hoplessness, anxiety, and cruelty in the mass awaiting to be set free to take off on whatever destination they had planned on earlier in the day.

Was the woman criticizing her partner for not picking up her carry on? Was she commenting on his lack of insight for taking the last seat by the podium and robbing her of some brief rest? Was she raising her fists into the air to curse the airline authorities or the God that manifested such a powerful storm?

I don't know. I just caught the words, and they made a home in me.

When you are stuck in the airport, you have a few options: complain in protest or step back in anticipation. I chose the later, although I wasn't really good at relaxing while the buzz around me continued to fluster in discontent.

I began to notice all the families and couples but also single people, perhaps waiting to be coupled or joined into the folds of family and friends. They were uncomfortable in their singularity, and thus, a complete lack of faith ensued. This was my predicament.

Being single this Christmas, a bit of my faith loosened from my core. Faith in my life choices, faith in my present place, faith in others to support me, faith in my physical, mental and spiritual health to sustain me. And this absence exacerbated a type of immobility. I stopped circulating.

What I know is that sometimes, when in situations where you have nothing else to do but to sit and wait, noticing things may be a little easier.

I do not want to be like this woman, I thought.

I want to be kind in situations where I feel stuck. And even if I don't feel as if I am going anywhere, I want to still move with faith.

Are you stuck? What does that do to your faith?