Perhaps it comes with the territory, but my missiological musings tend to begin with thinking, thinking, thinking. Ideas and concepts take shape in hundreds and sometimes thousands of carefully chosen words. These words, strung across a page, become sentences that when huddled together turn into paragraphs. These paragraphs, mindfully stacked one upon the next, become a carefully constructed section or chapter.

What I’m trying to say is, I often write and think about missiology with great focus and intensity, alone, in front of a screen. Missiology is also meant to be lived and learned in every corner of the world.

Today, I am meeting my husband Bob in San Antonio for the annual Society of Biblical Literature conference by way of Orlando. As I exited my Uber and ran into the terminal, the torrential rain drenched me and everyone else who was coming or going, and made for a raucous afternoon in Terminal A.

I joined throngs of humans shuffling along in slow moving lines at the TSA Check Point—chubby, freckle-faced boys dawned in space-age Mickey Mouse hats, curly-haired girls crowned with sparkly princess tiaras, weary parents tugging worn out kids, travelers clutching passports headed to faraway places, business people deep in conversation oblivious to the surrounding chaos.

The Orlando airport marks the boundary between the happiest place on earth and the cold, hard, world—if you have experienced MCO you know exactly what I mean. Somehow this place heightens stress, provokes a latent sense of entitlement, and presses some internal button that says, “You must, at all costs, rush!”

I think I almost knocked a woman down in my rush to secure a place in line for a newly opened checkpoint—I finally came to my senses and stepped aside and let her through.

Then, the security check point scanner was unable to read the QR code on my boarding pass—I tried like twenty times 🙄. People before and after me experienced the same frustration. The TSA guy repeatedly said to me and to every person who tried the scanner, “Don’t look at me! I don’t know why it doesn’t work, I can’t do anything about it.” I tried to make light of it, but he was way past funny.

As I stepped into the next corral, I almost rolled my eyes in righteous indignation. Instead. I felt the Spirit’s prod—“practice what you preach.” So, I put myself in his shoes and thought about how utterly frustrating his job must be, even on a good day.

As I wheeled my bag to Gate 110, Jesus’s invitation came to mind,

Come to me all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light (Matt 11:28-40).

In another place, Jesus looks out across a sea of faces and feels compassion, he describes the crowds as harassed and helpless, filled with anxiety and fear.  Then, in the hours before he is betrayed, Jesus promises, “I have said these things to you, that in me you might have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

The puzzle? Jesus declares to have overcome the world just before he is condemned to die. The surprise? Jesus is alive, in the flesh. The scars on his nail pierced palms prove to the doubters (at least some) that he is the Christ-Son of the living God.

So, this post is meant to remind us that we all know what it feels like to be harassed and helpless, to grapple with fear and anxiety, to give into a sense of entitlement.

Yet, we also know that we carry within us the power of God’s Spirit who in a mysterious way, lifts our burdens, slows us down. God’s Spirit often fills us with an inexplicable peace, and empowers us to show kindness and patience, to respond with gentleness and self control even in unreasonable circumstances.

Sometimes it is our Spirit-empowered actions that shine a light in the rugged and ragged places.

God’s Spirit invites us to practice missiology everywhere, and maybe especially in, places like the borderlands of the Orlando International Airport.