Oh no, I remember thinking to myself. We already have no leg room, and now there will be three of us squeezed into this tiny space. I smiled and said, "you are."
I stepped into the aisle so she could claim her middle seat. The passenger at the window was already comfortable and reading her Nook.
I planned to sleep the entire flight. Worn out, sore throat starting, and trying to adjust to a different time zone.
I pushed my seat back and closed my eyes.
"What do you do?" she asked softly.
I opened one eye to make sure she wasn't talking to me. However, that wasn't the case. My plans for napping were quickly vanishing. My seat-mate wanted to talk.
We exchanged basic information, then she got into the "heart" of it.
I listened for several hours to her story. When she finished I assured her I would be praying for her and the entire situation she shared with me.
When we landed we continued walking together towards the baggage claim area. I waved as she went her way and I mine. I felt a sense of sadness, realizing I would probably never see this lady again.
I added her to my prayer journal and realized I couldn't tell her I was praying for her. That's when it really hit me.
Why does it matter if she knows I'm praying for her? After all, why am I praying?
Matthew 6:5 And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men.
As an intercessor. I don't need conformation, I don't need her to thank me. I need to lift her prayer concerns to the Lord, just as I promised her I would do.
Matthew 6:6 But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.
