Some years ago I was flying out of one of the poorest countries in West Africa. The Terminal building was no more than a big shed, and check-in and security were slow, and tedious. Finally I took my seat on the bus waiting to take us across the tarmac to our waiting plane. I messaged my wife, “Next stop Paris!”, closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief – I was on my way home.
It was at precisely this moment that the doors of the bus opened, and a police officer boarded and said something in French. Now given my schoolboy understanding of the language, the only thing I understood was a clear mention of my name in the middle of the sentence. She beckoned me to follow her off the bus and back into the Terminal building. I had no idea why I was being removed or what was going to happen next.
But as so often it was in that moment, when there was nothing I could do and the future suddenly looked precarious, that I experienced the presence of Jesus – I knew that He was with me and that it would be OK, and it was.
When all else fails God promises that He won’t, but the only way to realise this is true is to get to the place where all else has failed.