Jack W Hayford - The Key to Everything: Experience the Freedom to Discover Gods Purpose

My bag had begun to multiply into baggagea burden to my soul born of a bad attitude...

Such things take a phenomenal toll.

T O SAY THAT the Key to Everything could be found on a jet airplane may strike youas rather superficial. But if an experience of mine could prove thatat least formethis particular flight to Portland was it.

It was Sunday.

Sundays are more than simply busy when you pastor a congregation with four morningservices, and thats the way it had been. The congregation had packed into the chapel,and every ninety minutes another service had started (an amazing logistical accomplishmentsince the services ran eighty to eighty-five minutes each!).

On top of that, Id hurried to the Burbank airport after the fourth service, incrediblygrateful that the group inviting me to speak that night in Portland had arranged a first-class ticket. That would allow more space for rest and give me a chance totake off my shoes and stretch out before having to speak again that night.

It was strategic in terms of time, too. Having a seat in the front of the aircraftwould allow me to disembark quickly upon arrival and be able to meet my hosts immediatelyso they could get me to the church on time for the evening service. It was tight,but plans were in placethat is, until the episode I call The Saga of the ClutteredBaggage Compartment occurred.

Because I knew that I would be going directly from the plane to the church service,and since it was just an overnight trip, I was carrying only a garment bag. Nothingto check in or wait for upon arrival in Portland. I would just get off the planewith my bag, and Id be on my way. From my many travels I knew that, for the convenienceof the passengers sitting in first class, there was an area specifically set asideto hang their garment bags. And I knew it was guarded for that purpose, because inmy many, many non-first-class flights I had, on an occasion or two, tried to hangmy bag there. But I would be told, No, sir. This is for first-class passengers only!

However, now with my first-class ticket in hand, when I started to give my bag tothe flight attendant for placement in my compartment, she smiled sweetly but thenshrugged and gestured with embarrassment toward the compartment.

It was already jammed with garment bags!

As I glanced over her shoulder, noting that in first-class seating there were onlytwo people, I suddenly realized Id been betrayed. I frowned and said nothing butinwardly shouted my protest: This woman has let just anybody hang garment bags inmy first-class place!

The discovery disturbed me, especially because I had often been disallowed use ofthat area when I didnt have a first-class ticket. Now why didnt the same rule applyto all of these other people?

The cogs in my mind were starting to spin at full speed: This time I do have a first-classticket. Now I dont have a place for my garment bag! I dont like this! (I stilldidnt say anything, but I was ticked big time, as its said in the vernacular.)

Of course, the flight attendant was very accommodating about the situation. She expressedher regret, offered to put the bag in one of the rear compartments for me and smiledher most gentle apologies.

I had in no way verbalized or revealed my anger, carefully containing my frustration.So I smiled back, saying that I would really appreciate it. But as she took my bagand moved toward the rear of the plane to hang it up for me, I hardly felt like smilingon the inside.

Im not really a crotchety kind of person. In fact, I think almost everyone fromfamily to associates would say Im easy to get along with. But at this moment? Well,Id gotten up quite early, preached four services, run to catch a planeand I wastired. And so getting on the plane and having this happen caught me at a low point.I was annoyed.

The situation was really getting under my skin, for as I took my seat, the problemmagnified in my mind. My garment-bag space had been given away! Now when I got readyto leave the plane, Id have to

go to the back of the plane,

struggle through the tide of exiting passengers,

try to get my garment bag back down a crowded aisle, and

only hope to catch my ride in time.

Surely youre starting to sympathize with me. Hey! I mean, was this a monstrous miscarriageof justice or what? You know what I mean? And all because that flight attendantgave away my garment-bag space!

I twisted a time or two in my seat, repressing frustration and trying to keep myovert attitude reasonably Christian, but my mind kept replaying that scene ofneglect and failureno place for my bag! I decided something needed to be done aboutthis. (Has anything like this ever happened inside you?)

Now, I thought, Im far too nice a person to complain to the cabin crew or speakmeanly or make trouble. But this whole matter was bigger than my problem, as anyonecould see. Cmon. Havent you had such moments when you thought, Any person cansee that the scales of universal justice are about to tip irretrievably toward toleratedirresponsibility in the workplace?

Thats where I was that day, thinking, It may just be my bag today, but who knowswhatll happen next? Yknow? Somebody needed to do something, and I was the manfor the mission.

Im gonna write to the airline! I vowed silently. After all, if they dont knowsomethings wrong, they cant do anything about it. And if they dont do anythingabout it, pretty soon, every time anyone got on an airplane, that little compartmentwould be full of non-first-class-passenger garment bags! I needed to take this rightto the top so systems could be firmed up, a policy statement issued, or somethinglegislated in Washington!

By now I had forgotten about my need for a nap. I had a heavy-duty project on line,so I got my notepad out of my briefcase to jot down a few notes regarding what Iwanted to saythe flight number, airport, destination, and so on.

But as I got ready to write, it suddenly occurred to me that I was presuming thatthe flight attendant had filled up the front compartment before the back was used.Maybe by some fluke of circumstance, the back compartment had been filled up, andshe had been forced to use the first-class compartment. To make an honest claim,I needed to find out. I had to be sure that I had a case. (Dont you think it admirableof me to have been so considerate of that possibility? Clearly godly reasoningwas operating!)

I started to get up from my seat, planning to go to the rear of the plane to checkout the possibility, when it happened.

The Lord spoke to me.

He spoke to me by a whisper of the Holy Spirit. (It often happens when youre aboutto do something really dumb!)

The plane still hadnt taken off, and just as I rose, the Voice said, Let it go.Thats all He said: Let it go.

I wish I could tell you that every time Ive heard the voice of the Lord, I haveresponded immediately. But I havent. Not that I rebelled, mind you. I just didntresponddidnt acknowledge Hed spoken. And I didnt obey.

It wasnt exactly complete disobedience but more of a suspended-in-time, Ill-obey-laterdisobedience. I didnt have an aggressively defiant attitude, but rather a passivelyconvenient, try-to-look-innocent-while-saying, I didnt hear anything, did you?sort of denial. I was pretending not to have been addressed correctively by the Almighty.So, taking advantage of my convenient denial and suspended obedience, I gotout of my seat and started down the aisle.