please put your shoes back on.

Alaska.
Everything is bigger in Alaska. You've heard that righ? From the snowfall to the mountains, the cars people drive to the shopping carts they overflow with oversized pastries. I would like to add one unfortunate item to this list: body odor.

It all started as I settled into my spacious exit row seat- 15F. Now, I'd like to point out the simple fact that I have no one to blame for this seat but myself. I selected it from a chart online. Pushed the button and smiled as I accepted responsiblity for assisting others in case of an emergency.
Litle did I know that the emergency would be my own.

I settle into my seat. Adjust the belt tightly on my lap. Tuck the blanket it just so. Smile at my seatpartner and introduce myself. What luck we had- no one in our middle seat! What a great flight this will be! And then it hit me like a baseball to the eye.
WHAT was that smell?!
Like a mix of sweat, urine and molding meat- my nose flares and my eyes water almost instantly. It's coming from behind me... I resist the urge to turn around even though I'm in panic mode, frantic to unstrap myself from this cage of horror. Does no one else smell this?! (*Please note: while yes, I admit I do have a VERY sensitive nose, SOMEONE HAS TO FEEL MY PAIN ON THIS!) No one appears to be in the state of panic I'm in.

And then it happens. The coughing. I'm sorry... the HACKING. I duck in my seat aware that I am tall and my hair is vulnerable. A startled flight attendant reaches into her pocket for a tissue and hands it to the woman (yes, and you thought it would be a man, didn't you? SO DID I.) located directly behind me. Seconds later the hackng continues and the woman gets up and leaves. (Along with her the unfortunate smell which is how I figured out where the attack was coming from) Flight attendants huddle up and talk in hushed voices. When the woman returns they ask if she has a need for medical attention (MEDICAL ATTENTION?!). She says, "she says, no, I think I'll be Ok." Frantically I try and get a mental picture of the medical records I myself turned into Corban upon my entrance as a student - HAVE I has a TB shot? I do hope so. The poor woman's coughing subsides and the plane begins to back out of it's stall.

With the return of the woman, the smell has once again returned. Knowing I have several hours ahead of me I try and suck it up, breath through my mouth. This last for about 10 minutes until I hear a little "thud, thud" from behind me. Oh yes, the unmistakable sound of two shoes being kicked off and dropped onto the floor. Against ALL odds, the smell gets WORSE. So I subtly bring a hand up to my face, just slightly covering my nose. This is better. I can smell the airport soap on my hands. Not usually my favorite smell, but currently by best bet as all of my good smelling loction has been checked. I remain a prisinor to my hand for quite some time. And then, another aroma is added to the mix- human flatulants. My eyes water, and I'm close to tears for more reason than one.

Each time I remove my hand hoping that I have gotten used the smell, I have to force myself to not gag. I ordered a cup of coffee and made the man next to me assume I had lost my find as I proceded to use this cup as a remedy for the next hour, just holding it slightly under my nose, trying to make this movement look natural. When I was forced to turn my cup over to the well-meaning flight attendant, I reverted to my hand trick.

Now, I'm going to stop there. There's no happy ending to this story. It was a LONG flight to say the least. But as I was praying for various people and asking the Lord why His sense of humor so often involved my life, a passage of Scripture came to my mind. If I was cooler, I would have the passage for you (but my Bible isn't on me and I can't remember it). There's a chance it's in Corinthians somewhere. This passage talks about how we are the Aroma of Christ. We are either the aroma of life to those who are being saved or death to those who are perishing. So my prayer for myself last night was that God could use me as a pleasing aroma- one that can bring others to Him.

Maybe even the woman behind me. I have no idea who I'll run into in Alaska, but God knows. And there are no accidents. So my encouragaement to all of us weary travelers serving the Lord by sharing about Corban is that we'd keep it all in perspective. Remember what we're here for. Whether your travels leave in in WA, OR, AZ, NM, CA or Salem, Or, be a pleasing aroma.