Stories of Christians who witness on airplanes to fellow passengers confirm that my objective while flying—to read or snooze—is selfish. Maybe it’s navigating the traffic to get to the airline two hours before the flight departs or figuring out how to apply the sticky computerized luggage tags or watching the luggage scale inch up towards the 50-pound limit or navigating the terminal before entering the TSA maze, for starters.

Then here’s the actual TSA line.  Heaven, help me.  Does this airport want me to remove my computer and Kindle from my 80-pound backpack?  Did I accidentally leave a four-ounce—instead of the maximum-size, three-ounce—hand lotion in one of the zippered bags?  Can I place my shoes and purse inside the same carton as my boarding pass and belt?  Do I have a stick of gum in my pant pocket, causing me to be frisked as I exit the Xray?  Can I hold my arms above my head for the x-ray to do its magic?  Is the agent laughing at my flabby triceps as I do?

By the time I navigate the airport and find my gate, I need a nap.  But I’m not finished. Now there’s the humiliation of boarding in Group 9 because I chose the cheapest flight possible.  Everyone and their service animal get on ahead of me, so I feel everyone’s stares as I head for Row 35, Seat B…you know, in the back, in the middle of two strangers and directly in front of the restrooms.  You get my point.

So, I apologize to God in advance for not looking at my seatmates as potential Jesus-followers and instead want only to read or sleep.  This past flight was no different.  Leaving Las Vegas and heading to Kansas City, I had one stop in Dallas where, yes indeedy, I was in the back row.  The young woman in the window seat seemed uninterested in conversation.  Perfect.

And it would have been, had the Lord not nudged me multiple times to strike up a conversation, much against my selfish desire to be alone.  I gave in.  “Are you from the K.C. area?” I asked.  She was.  Lee Summit.  Case closed, I told myself.  God had a different idea. To Him, it was more like, “Case Open.”

“What brought you to Dallas?” I continued.  I asked her about her job and family, at which point she became more conversant.  When she asked why I was flying into KC, I told her that I was heading to Iowa to speak to a church on the evils of sex trafficking.  Her eyes lit up…and then she shared her story.

Two weeks before, her 13-year-old daughter was talking on the phone when her mom overheard her say, “I’m not comfortable sharing that.”  When questioned, the young teen said that she was talking to a boy from her middle school.  The mother (“Beth”) said that she didn’t believe her daughter.  After some time, the daughter told her the truth: it was a stranger she had met online and had been talking to for several weeks.

The more Beth shared, the more I recognized that that man fit the profile of a pedophile/trafficker at work.  Beth listened, alarmed, as I told her how they operate, the very thing I would be talking about in Iowa.  I asked the widowed mother if she and her daughter attended church.  They had…and loved it…but stopped going.  I recommended that they start again and find a church with a great youth program.  She assured me that they will. We exchanged contact information as we exited the plane.

As usual, I learned something I pray I never forget: When God nudges, His purposes are far greater than my selfish desires. Isaiah 55:10-11 makes that clear.  Just as God sends rain to grow our crops for food, “so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”

In this case, God’s words, His desire, might have saved a life.