to the girl in seat 27F...

i owe you an apology.

i failed you.

ever since we landed at logan international on that brutally cold spring night, i have thought about you.

as we stood in line to board the plane from myrtle beach, i remember thinking how loud you were.

you and your girlfriend were on college spring break.

you had driven to the coast of south carolina with a whole gaggle of girls.

i remember those days.

we did the same.

but you and your best friend had a falling out with the rest of the group.

so, you bought a ticket and boarded that boston bound plane.

i remember thinking how in the world two college students had the funds to purchase a plane ticket.

on a whim.

just up and leave the rest of your group.

i am way past the spring break days, but i spent two years planning our trip that weekend.

you see, i was whisking my man away for his fortieth birthday.

on a surprise trip to boston to see the red sox play their season opener at fenway.

as fate would have it, you and i were seated next to one another.

i was sandwiched between you and my man.

your best friend was seated right in front of you.

and much to your dismay, there was a precious mama and her two children behind us.

right before take off, you fumbled in your bag for that magic pill to calm your nerves.

i offered the water i had just purchased to wash the anxiety away. 

you eagerly accepted as the plane began to taxi for take off.

on the two hour flight, i heard the sordid details of your time at the beach.

between the stories of your coastal escapades and the f bombs over the crying baby sitting behind us, it was quite an earful.

you loudly declared that you hated kids.

and that you would never have any.

my husband and i just smiled at one another.

and then he offered the little girl behind us a piece of gum to see if it would help with her ears.

it was her first flight.

the magic pill to calm her nerves comes in the form of her mama's soothing voice and soft arms.

and the kindness of strangers.

perhaps you didn't notice that i was sixteen weeks pregnant.

not that it was hard to miss.

you tend to show sooner with the second pregnancy.

but you splattered your opinions about pregnancy and children for all to hear.

and made plans to make it to the club as soon as the plane landed.

after all, all the boys would be there.

especially the one your best friend swore had a "thing" for you.

it was mass chaos when we landed.

most international airports are.

like horses out the gate at rodeo, people were dashing everywhere.

i lost sight of you.

but i have thought about you every day since that flight.

and i am sorry.

for failing you.

for not introducing myself.

and sharing some Truth with you.

i kept Jesus to myself.

and i am sorry.

i have spent the better part of the past seven months praying for you.

for your heart to soften.

for God to raise someone else up that will share Him with you.

i get it.

you are young.

in college.

without a care in the world.

life revolves around you and what makes you happy.

you live for the moment.

and the parties and fun.

i know because i was once there.

filth flung from my lips and i counted down the hours until the next party.

but trust me when i say this.

there came a day, when i regretted all of it.

i am not ashamed at the person i once was.

rather, i am overwhelmed that i was worthy enough to be redeemed.

there is only One who is capable of loving us at our worst.

and He is so worthy.

i pray someone shares Him with you.

and i pray that you feel the depth and breadth of His redeeming love.

i am so very sorry i kept Him to myself.

that i allowed judgement to seal my lips.

please forgive me.

you can count on this.

the passenger in seat 27E will keep praying for you.

and hoping that one day we will be caught up together in the clouds. to meet the Lord in the air.

until then...
safe travels, my friend.