In-Flight Counseling

I had already mentally rejoiced at the prospect of having a whole row to myself on my second flight, from Dallas to Fresno to see my brother and sister-in-law. But just before I scooted over the middle seat to start spreading myself out, I saw an average-looking guy in his mid-30s coming down the aisle on his cell phone. He made eye contact and motioned that he was in my row. Darn. I got up, and he sat by the window. Well, it was still better than getting stuck in the middle with someone on either side, like the last flight.

I gathered from his phone conversation that he was a caring dad with young kids, and probably at least separated from their mother, but still polite. He was telling his little girl that he was on a plane coming home and would see her soon, and she could dream and tell him all about it. I was fascinated, and thought about commenting about it when he got off the phone, but didn't feel like awkward conversation.

However, before I knew it, he'd introduced himself and we were shaking hands, and a conversation began that lasted the entire way to Fresno, most of which involved the following story. Since he's not one of my real "clients," I thought it might be ok to share his story, or at least what I can remember. I'll call him Sam, although I don't remember his name, honestly.

Sam's mom left his dad when he was less than a year old, and his dad remarried when he was about six. He grew up Catholic, and took his marriage seriously. When he married his wife, he believed it was for keeps, a life-long commitment. Both of their parents had experienced failed marriages, but it wasn't an option for him. Everything was going great for the first years of their marriage. The first kid came along, and they were excited, everything was still great. Then his wife got pregnant again, but miscarried. According to him, she got a little crazy after that--maybe postpartum depression, he said. He wasn't sure what to do, so just sort of stayed in denial and thought maybe having another kid would help. So along came the second kid, but things didn't get any better. Maybe another kid would help? But it turned out to be another miscarriage. She started getting violent towards him--hitting him, one time even cutting him with a knive while he was in the shower. Sam was a bit at a loss about what to do, but finally realized he should try to get some help. So he talked to her dad, who basically just tossed him a book about how to have affairs when your marraige turns sour. Sam didn't appreciate that, so went to her uncle, who he'd always gotten along with pretty well. He was supportive, but not sure what to do. The uncle's daughter got involved in trying to help--his wife's cousin--and began studying the Bible with him. Sam said she was a "born-again Christian" and he'd never read the Bible, since he was a Catholic, so she began studying with him. And they fell in love. She left her husband, and urged him to divorce his wife (her cousin), so they could get together. Now they live together and are engaged. And they are NOT living happily ever after. The story just gets even more complicated from here, with custody issues and his fiance's interesting family.

I think what struck me most about the guy was his sincerity. He talked about how he feels stuck. He reads scripture and feels guilty, but at the same time, doesn't God want him to be happy? While going back to his ex-wife (who would take him back, actually) would be easier financially and maybe good for the kids, he's afraid he'd never be able to be on solid ground with her and share the intimacy and connection he has with his new fiance. I told him I'd be praying for him this week. He said thank. Just remember him when I see a pickle jar--as the one in a pickle.

I really do feel for him, and I am praying for him. He has an important administrative job that he enjoys, making six-figure digit income (although it's literally all going to pay for taxes or legal issues), and has been learning to deal with stress. And I sense that he really is a God-seeker. The only thing I could really say was that I would pray for him that God would give him the courage to do what He calls him to do. I don't know what else to say, because that is what I have been praying for myself lately, in my life decisions.

Sam might have a complicated life right now because of some decisions he readily admits he regrets, and he might have enjoyed an in-flight beverage I wouldn't choose, but we have a lot in common, really. I'm glad God is a good counselor.