have seen Jesus. I truly
have. Iím neither crazy,
nor a religious fanatic, who sees God under every rock, and hears Him in
every passing cloud. But I
have seen Jesus. It was a
couple of months ago.
was sitting on an
airplane. People were
boarding as we were getting ready to leave.
The last two people to board were an older man, perhaps fifty five,
and a teenage boy. The man
was behind the boy, and had his arms around the boyís chest.
He was struggling, face red, teeth gritting, sweat popping out on
his forehead, trying to carry the boy into the plane.
The young man was obviously paralyzed from the waist down, and had
very little control from the waist up.
Sweating profusely now, the man hoisted the boy onto the plane and
just passing me, he put the boy in the seat behind me.
He didnít just dump him into the seat, mind you.
He set him there, gently. There
was value in the manís attitude toward the boy. Something . . . deep.
plane was one of those little commuter jobs, one seat on my side of the
plane and two seats on the other, perhaps six rows like that.
Holding the boy in place, the man put the seat belt around the
boyís waist, then put a second belt, which he carried with him, around
the boyís chest and the seat so he wouldnít fall over.
The last thing the man did, after taking his seat just across the
aisle from the boy, was to reach out and take his sonís hand and hold it
as we raced down the runway. I
was moved. What was this great event I was witnessing?
the flight, we hit some rough weather a couple of times.
The plane was tossed back and forth, up and down.
Those little commuters tend to be shaken much easier than the big
planes. It was during some of
the roughest moments, the boy behind me lost his stomach and threw up.
Calmly, and with a tenderness born of a fatherís love, the man
gently spoke to his son, as he wiped the mess from his face and clothes.
ďAre you alright, son?Ē
A garbled, ďAhh . . .Ē escaped the lips of the boy.
ďDonít worry. Itís
stewardess brought some wet towels back and attempted to clean up the
mess, but, with a smile of thanks, the man took them from her.
He proceeded to wipe his boyís face and clothes, then the chair
and floor. With something
bordering on spiritual humility, he handed the cloths back to the
stewardess, and returned to his seat.
There was no sigh, no shaking of the head.
There was just a man who had done for his son what needed to be
turbulence continued and in a short time the episode was repeated.
It was like watching an instant replay on some sports show. The man was just as loving and tender the second time as he
was the first. His attitude
of love never wavered. Iím
not a particularly emotional man, but my eyes filled with tears.
have no idea who that man was. I
only know he was a great man, and he taught me something about love and
faith that day, about family and sacrifice.
He changed my life, if only just a little bit.
I may never see him again, but Iíll remember him always.
In fact, I must never forget.
say I donít know who he was, and thatís true.
I do know who was in him though . . . It was Jesus.
I saw Him. He was on
the Memphis flight from Chattanooga.
you spend time on the mission field, can people see Jesus in you?
What you say about Jesus means something only if they see Him in your
who receives you receives me, and he who receives me receives the one who
welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever
welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me."
ďI tell you the truth, whoever accepts anyone I send accepts me;
and whoever accepts me accepts the one who sent me."