Pilot in the Jump Seat

“The pilot will give up his seat and sit in the cockpit on the jump seat. There are now two seats and if you hurry, we can get you on this flight to Portland, Maine.”

The gate attendant had figured out a way that David and I could both make this flight. We had been standby passengers number 3 and 4 with four empty seats registering on the overhead screen that shows the list of standbys and how many seats are left empty.

I shuddered when the monitor showed that there were now only three seats left, then two, then one. “Both of you can’t fit on this flight. Do you want to fly separately, or do you want to step down?”

As David and I paused, then jointly decided we would wait for the next flight (some five hours later), which would land us at our destination around 11 o’clock at night, she suddenly had a bright idea. “Wait here. If I don’t come back, just know that the plane’s doors have been closed and the flight is scheduled to depart.”

To say the least, it was a tenuous moment, but we are learning to exercise absolutely trust in this flying without tickets world. Airlines move their flight personnel to and fro using the open seats on scheduled flights and sometimes our places in line are commandeered by their necessity to go where they go.

In just a moment or two, she was back, hurriedly hastening us down the runway. “Make sure you thank the pilot,” she called to us about five times. I figured that was pretty important to do.

“Glad you made it on board,” said a stewardess.

“Who do we thank?” I called out. She pointed to a pilot scurrying into the cockpit. “Blessings on you for doing this,” I called to him. “I will bless you this whole flight.” He ducked his head—a younger man, a little embarrassed by the attention—but he had given up a seat with legroom so that one of us could take it and so that both of us could be on the same flight. This meant we would arrive at our destination with plenty of time to find our way after a two-hour drive.

But really, as generous as this unknown man was (moving probably because he thought of his own friends and family members who had also been given standby passes; two extra passes are granted to each employee), it is really God to whom we are suspecting we owe a debt of gratitude. This is the fifth or sixth flight we’ve taken in the last months with standby passes where we’ve been given the last seat on an airplane. Somehow (knowing how really busy and preoccupied He must be), assigned Standby Angels seem to be negotiating seat arrangements, no-shows, and our ownwould-be flyer anxiety levels.

He shall give his angels charge over you is much more than a comforting and familiar phrase from Scripture. These days, it is a practical reality. I think of it every time I am given the last empty seat on an airplane, no matter what my number may be in the standby line.

I spy God!