If it hadn’t been for a series of events that created a little chaos, I wouldn’t have met her. Yet not only did we meet, God created an opportunity for me to share my story and give her hope.

We arrived early for our flight and it’s a good thing we did. We took our suitcase to the counter and placed it on the scale – it was 56 pounds. I had 3 plastic bags filled with glass bottles containing remedies from my visit to the doctor. They were carefully packed in bubble wrap and the 3 bags equally made up the 6 pound weight overage.

I knew it would require a little extra time through security, but I had a letter from the doctor explaining the medically necessary bottles and we had time.

The bottles cannot go through X-ray, so they have to be individually tested to confirm they contain no explosive material. Standard procedure when this occurs also includes a full search of all my possessions and an intimate pat down.

I’ve done this before. I’m prepared for it. I smile and make small talk with several of the TSA officers involved in the process. One in particular kept coming to me and asking questions. Once the drill of the invasive body search was completed, she shared her story.

Her husband has been sick for many years. High fluctuating pain, doctors don’t have answers other than to load him with pain meds. Other symptoms are unexplainable and no one seems to know what to do.

It’s Lyme disease. I’m certain of that. I’m not a doctor, but I have lived with this sickness and have heard hundreds of patient stories – I know this disease.

She had seen the bottles come through security time and time again. She made every effort to be the one testing the bottles so she could ask questions of the sick person on the other side of the counter. But that only gives a brief encounter and she wanted more.

This time, another officer stepped in and started testing the remedies. She offered to take over – but he denied her request.

Yet if she had done so, our time would have been limited. I was ushered off to the side lines for my pat down before had started so if she had taken over, we wouldn’t have talked. She followed and she waited.

Normally in situations like this, my husband (who is always through security in a matter of minutes) would stand near me, taking photos of the pat down and texting our kids about their “terrorist” mother being put through the drill. We would smile and chat and in the end talk about how thankful we are that we have officers doing such a good job of stopping potential threats on the flight.

But not this time. This time, he was stopped. His bag was flagged for search. He had some of the food in his bag left over from our stay – a bag of oats and monk fruit sweetener had specifically been targeted (if you didn’t already know, certain foods are now banned from carry-one, powdery substances will be tested). It seems some of the powder had sifted out and contaminated pretty much everything else in his bag.

So as I’m sharing my story, he is distracted by intense discussions with other officers about the contents on his bag, giving me time to focus on a conversation that I pray will change the lives of this woman and her husband.

Yes, I believe God created those moments. I believe God used chaos in my husbands world to give me time to share my story.

Any one thing could have changed this event. If anything had been different – had my bag been under weight, had we taken something other than the remedies out of the checked luggage, had the officer been the one to test the remedies, had my husband not been delayed – all of these things had to go wrong for that conversation to happen.

I hate this wicked illness. It has caused so much pain and destruction. But I thank God that He gives me purpose in moments like this when I can give hope and encouragement to someone who is desperately seeking answers.

He is in the mix of it all. Never doubt that He has purpose for you, no matter how sick you are, no matter how worthless you feel. Your story is part of His story.

Endure. He is writing your testimony right now.