Thanks For That God

I awoke earlier than usual that morning. My heart was pounding and my head was full of anxious thoughts about the 5 days looming before me. In 3 hours I was to get on a plane to travel to Sonoma County to go to my dad’s celebration of life, several family functions, and the disbursement of his ashes on the San Francisco Bay where I grew up sailing with my dad, the skipper, the captain of my heart.

When I began my journey of recovery it was suggested to me that I devote some time each day, preferably mornings, to reading, prayer, and meditation. Being a willing student, I heard this and developed what I now call my daily spiritual practice, which, in 8 years, have not missed a single day. It is the foundation of my day, my conduit to God.

This morning was no different. I drew comfort and strength knowing in those wee anxious hours of the morning that I would soon be restored to sanity as soon as began my practice.

After my reading, I asked God to direct my thoughts, words, and actions for the day and I prayed for knowledge of His will for me and the power to carry that out… especially on this travel day, this day of much anticipation, worry, and sadness.

It is not easy to get to Santa Rosa from Medford. I had to go north to go south. On my very full flight to Portland I sat next to a young business man. He immediately struck up a conversation and we had a lively talk about our enjoyment of traveling solo. I told him about my annual Mexico trip and he told me about his annual fishing trips that take him all over the world. Wow! I said, you must really love fishing! He looked at me inquisitively and said, yeah, I guess you could say that. Turns out he was saying MISSION trips, not FISHING trips. A fisher of men he was.

He asked me about my travels for that day and listened intently as I shared my feelings of anxiety and fear around the memorial, my grief over the loss of my larger than life father, and the sudden departure of my beautiful daughter Tara.
He asked my first name and said that he and his wife would spend the evening in prayer for me. That it is God’s will that I have a peaceful heart.

After de-planing in Portland I walked thru the terminal with a grin on my face and a shift from anxiety to peace in my being.

“Thanks for that God” I whispered.

Facing a 3 hour layover, I planted myself next to the Starbucks kiosk where the line had no end in sight.
I amused myself with the intricate art form of ordering a cup of coffee.
I heard a chuckle from an older gentleman sitting near me. We exchanged a glance of acknowledgement that we were both amazed with this ordering process.

He asked if I would watch his bags while he “attempted to coffee.” I said sure and when he returned with a cup of black coffee, he struck up a conversation with me, asking first off, where I was headed. After my Divine appointment on my first flight, I had no qualms about telling him- plus he looked like my dad and was probably a father himself. I told him where I was going and why, and I confessed that I was still unclear as to whether I would get up and speak at the memorial. We talked for over an hour about this. When his flight was called he asked me if I had any more clarity about speaking. I absolutely had. There was no need for me to say anything at the service. I thanked him and he disappeared.

I realized in that moment, talking it out with this wise gentleman, that my dad and I had a personal and sacred bond that did not need defining. It did not need an elaborate speech.
The daughter and woman I was becoming was a testament to the kind of man he was. He always did his best to learn, grow, and be excellent in all his affairs. I am my fathers daughter, by the Grace of God and by working a daily program of recovery.

Thanks for that God.

On my fully booked 2 hour flight to Santa Rosa I sat next to a woman, perhaps about my age. She was nervously knitting as the flight attendant was securing the cabin for take-off. “Trays up….everything stowed…seat belts low and tight.” I commented to my seat mate that it struck me funny how they walked right passed her and didn’t ask her to stow those giant, sharp knitting daggers of death that could impale her…we both laughed.

When she asked if I had kids I said yes. When she asked how old they were, and other questions, I told her we had lost our 42 year old daughter at Thanksgiving to addiction and depression. When I looked at her tears were falling from her face. I asked her if I had touched a soft spot and indeed I had. Her 39 year old daughter was battling the same issues and she was terrified. She shared in detail all her attempts to help her daughter. She was at that place of utter terror and helplessness as to what to try next. I shared my experience, strength, and hope with her for the duration of the flight. She asked me where I obtained this wisdom and peace around all that has happened. I told her about the program that saved my life- I told her about Al-Anon. I told her that God has been doing for me what I could not do for myself.

Thanks for that God.

On the morning of my return home, emotionally hungover and physically exhausted, I did my daily practice and asked God if it was His will, that I be provided with rest and stillness for that travel day. And of course, both my flights were almost empty, and no one was sitting next to me. I stretched out and slept.

Thanks for that God.

What I know at the core of my being is that when I ask to be directed and guided, God always answers. God always places helpers on my path. Only God knows what’s around the next corner. In addition, God uses me on other soul’s paths by providing these Divine Appointments for me to carry the message of hope and of God’s Grace in my life.

Thanks for that God.

By Nancy Mansfield