So, there I am, exhausted. A few hours ago, I was puking my guts out in Calcutta, India. I had made the mistake of eating steak, which was actually probably water buffalo, after 8 weeks of vegatable curries. Bad idea. I found myself physically weak & light headed on way home to England, with multiple long international flights ahead. Having survived, what I thought to be the excessive thoroughness of the Amman, Jordan airport security, I found a quiet corner across from the duty free shopping stores. The smell of expensive perfume, spices & incense permeated the air burning my nostrils. Flowing ebony, burkas in sharp contrast, with white marble and sandstone architechture were just tasters of the Middle-East culture I found my self suddenly immersed in.
I enjoyed sitting, watching and waiting for my next international flight across from the luxurary shopping stores, absorbing it all in. When a striking, immense figure approached. I honestly couldn't place his accent. He carried a 6 o'clock shadow, shaved head, tanned dried skin accented by the desert sun. No uniform; but, the typical kaki pants and t-shirt stretched out by his broad frame, an intimidating figure. He approached me and began to ask a series a questions with the general undertone of "WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU (a 19 yr old American white "girl") DOING IN THE MIDDLE-EAST (alone) ARE YOU CRAZY?!". He ultimately decided that my parents were crazy for letting me fly through the Middle-East, at a time like this. People associated with the USA at that time were being regularly kidnapped and assassinated in the Middle-East. I didn't have the heart to tell him, that I may have left my flight details out for my parents. But, I did clarify that I was NOT alone. I was with a Humanitarian Team working in India on our way home. Regretably, my team was no where to be seen, as usual off wandering the duty free shops.
What happened next honestly still sends a chill down my spine! With distressed concern he emphasized, "if anyone gives you ANY trouble, you tell them my name or get me. I'll take care of them." with the tone of a probably trained killer. Then, as if I'm in action film of my own, he gave me a couple versions of "his name" which were actually closer to nicknames like "Mr. T". My mind was racing, "Trouble? What do you mean by trouble?! We went through over an HOUR of thorough airport security, just shy of stripping us naked. What trouble could I get into? ... Then, if I'm harassed, I am to just say your 'name' and I'll be ok. Just tell them your name. Dear God, who IS this guy." After thanking him graciously for his help, should I need it; reassuring him I was not alone; and, promising that I was getting on the next flight out of the country, he left. Or so, I thought, he was concerned enough that I doubt he went very far.
I have been pondering my "Mr. T" experience. One, I am eternally grateful for my total stranger, "Bad-A Body Guard." Secondly, I am in awe of the power of a name. "Just tell them my name." The power of a name. How much power is in a name? "Just tell them my name." I am still in awe. People stand at a tension in the presence of people with the title King, Queen or President. Just their title, a name in it's simplest form, brings a change in behavior. A name is powerful. I can't help to but think of Jesus. The power of his name.
Therefore God also has highly exalted Him and given Him the name which is above every name, (Philippians 2:9 NKJV)
If you ask anything in My name, I will do it. (John 14:14 NKJV)
Save me, O God, by Your name, (Psalm 54:1 NKJV)
And when they had set them in the midst, they asked, By what power or by what name have you done this? (Acts 4:7 NKJV)
Men who have risked their lives for the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. (Acts 15:26 NKJV)
I called on Your name, O Lord, From the lowest pit. (Lamentations 3:55 NKJV)
For He who is mighty has done great things for me, And holy is His name. (Luke 1:49 NKJV)
For whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved. (Romans 10:13 NKJV)
I enjoyed sitting, watching and waiting for my next international flight across from the luxurary shopping stores, absorbing it all in. When a striking, immense figure approached. I honestly couldn't place his accent. He carried a 6 o'clock shadow, shaved head, tanned dried skin accented by the desert sun. No uniform; but, the typical kaki pants and t-shirt stretched out by his broad frame, an intimidating figure. He approached me and began to ask a series a questions with the general undertone of "WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU (a 19 yr old American white "girl") DOING IN THE MIDDLE-EAST (alone) ARE YOU CRAZY?!". He ultimately decided that my parents were crazy for letting me fly through the Middle-East, at a time like this. People associated with the USA at that time were being regularly kidnapped and assassinated in the Middle-East. I didn't have the heart to tell him, that I may have left my flight details out for my parents. But, I did clarify that I was NOT alone. I was with a Humanitarian Team working in India on our way home. Regretably, my team was no where to be seen, as usual off wandering the duty free shops.
What happened next honestly still sends a chill down my spine! With distressed concern he emphasized, "if anyone gives you ANY trouble, you tell them my name or get me. I'll take care of them." with the tone of a probably trained killer. Then, as if I'm in action film of my own, he gave me a couple versions of "his name" which were actually closer to nicknames like "Mr. T". My mind was racing, "Trouble? What do you mean by trouble?! We went through over an HOUR of thorough airport security, just shy of stripping us naked. What trouble could I get into? ... Then, if I'm harassed, I am to just say your 'name' and I'll be ok. Just tell them your name. Dear God, who IS this guy." After thanking him graciously for his help, should I need it; reassuring him I was not alone; and, promising that I was getting on the next flight out of the country, he left. Or so, I thought, he was concerned enough that I doubt he went very far.
I have been pondering my "Mr. T" experience. One, I am eternally grateful for my total stranger, "Bad-A Body Guard." Secondly, I am in awe of the power of a name. "Just tell them my name." The power of a name. How much power is in a name? "Just tell them my name." I am still in awe. People stand at a tension in the presence of people with the title King, Queen or President. Just their title, a name in it's simplest form, brings a change in behavior. A name is powerful. I can't help to but think of Jesus. The power of his name.
Therefore God also has highly exalted Him and given Him the name which is above every name, (Philippians 2:9 NKJV)
If you ask anything in My name, I will do it. (John 14:14 NKJV)
Save me, O God, by Your name, (Psalm 54:1 NKJV)
And when they had set them in the midst, they asked, By what power or by what name have you done this? (Acts 4:7 NKJV)
Men who have risked their lives for the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. (Acts 15:26 NKJV)
I called on Your name, O Lord, From the lowest pit. (Lamentations 3:55 NKJV)
For He who is mighty has done great things for me, And holy is His name. (Luke 1:49 NKJV)
For whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved. (Romans 10:13 NKJV)
Tiffany this was a great post! I enjoyed every sentence. What a crazy-cool experience, haha! ;) And wonderful thoughts too...it's all in THE Name... :)
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