In my experience, the Atlanta airport is a sprawling, crowded and confused space. Then again, in my experience, most airports are the same: unfortunate but necessary cogs in the machinery of our modern way of doing long-distance travel.
So, it was with a palpable sigh of relief when we finally were airborne after such a long layover; and we were simply joyous after touching down in Portland, Oregon, nearly five hours later.
Becky and I wheeled our carry-on luggage through the much less intense Portland Airport then took turns standing guard as we each made a visit to the restroom. We rolled through their airport food court, which looked pretty much like every other airport food court in America. We cleared the final TSA checkpoint and headed for the rental car area.
It was only then we realized we had a problem. Becky couldn’t find her phone. Uh-oh.
As is true for most of us moderns, our phones, our devices, are much more than just handy wireless gadgets for talking to others. They are tools we use to manage our way in the world, extensions of our very selves. They are arguably an almost bionic area of our brains. In some ways, they are how we do thinking. And they have become a part of who we think we are.
Becky checked her coat and her pants pockets a couple of times. I called her phone on my phone; we didn’t hear it tootle among the stuff. We knelt in the hallway while we took everything out of her backpack then stuffed it all back in. Her mind raced and the fear, the panic began. Where and when did I have it last? I took it out of my jacket pocket while I was waiting by the restroom. Okay, let’s retrace our steps. But, wait, we’ve already gone through the TSA checkpoint. They won’t let us go back to the restroom and food court area.
More worries. In addition to all the necessary information on the device, there was a pocket with her driver’s license and a charge card attached on the back. Not having I.D. would make it very difficult to board the plane for our return trip.
Two airport employees explained we couldn’t go back to the food court, but pointed out where to find the TSA area. We asked TSA agent Charlotte and she gave us a Lost and Found information. “Call that number,” she said and we did.
We were encouraged when someone answered so late in the evening. Even more encouraging was when Tom on the phone reassured us by saying, “Oh, yeah, they find lost phones almost every day. We open at 9 a.m. Check tomorrow.”
Our Bible reading that very morning had been a meditation on the Lord’s Prayer and how we should trust that everything goes according to God’s plan. What happens at the time may not seem good or right, but we can trust eventually things will work out. For the rest of the evening, we told ourselves it would be okay. I found myself saying in so many words, “Thy will be done.”
There are many ways I could go on with this. I could describe the helpful efficiency of the people working at the airports from the custodial staff to the government agents. I could explain how the next morning a little after 9 a.m. standing at the Lost and Found window, Mateo brought out five phones, one of which on the back had a brown pocket with a driver’s license and charge card in it. I could rattle off the other subtle yet powerful ways things worked out to make a chaotic event something good.
But to do that I would have to argue that unseen forces are at work in the world. I would have to maintain that sometimes the best course of action is to simply let it be, and remember that it is in His hands.
Norman Knight, a retired Clark-Pleasant Middle School teacher, writes this weekly column for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
