Frankfurt Desperation, Divine Rescue

After a trip to India, my daughter and I decided to extend our journey through Europe, while the rest of our traveling group flew home to the U.S.

It sounded like a grand adventure when we planned it—trusting the Holy Spirit to guide us each step of the way. But the adventure quickly turned into anxiety.

 My daughter and I found ourselves stuck in a holding area in the Delhi airport. Due to strict regulations, we couldn’t even enter the main terminal for four long hours. The air was thick with humidity and exhaustion. My daughter, battling a nasty cold, looked miserable—her face pale, her nose red and stuffed. At one point, an Indian woman approached her with gentle concern and said, “You don’t look well.” She was right.

By the time we boarded our 2:30 AM flight to Frankfurt, my daughter was getting worse. And I was starting to panic inside.

I had no solid plans for what came next. Just a vague hope of getting to Rome sometime in the next week to catch our flight home. Months earlier, this free-flowing plan had felt brave and spiritual—Let the Spirit lead! But now, sitting beside my sick daughter with no itinerary and no reservations, it didn’t feel brave at all. It felt foolish. Irresponsible. Scary.

When we landed in Frankfurt, we were exhausted, disoriented, and had absolutely no direction. We wandered the airport like lost sheep, eventually making our way to the train station connected to the terminal. I whispered a quiet, desperate prayer:
“Father, please give us favor. Please bring someone to guide us.”

I asked about trains to London or Paris. Paris was faster and cheaper—but only first-class seats were left. I sighed in frustration. First class was expensive, and I just wanted simplicity and rest. But with no better option, I bought the tickets.

When we boarded the train, my disappointment deepened. Instead of private seating, we were placed in a small six-seat compartment—two rows of seats facing each other with a table in the middle. We were crammed in with four strangers. No privacy. No rest. No silence. Just forced proximity with people we didn’t know for the next four hours.

“This is first class?” I muttered. I was irritated and tired. My daughter was feeling even worse, slumping in her seat. I closed my eyes and quickly fell asleep. (Later, my daughter told me she wanted to kick me—I was snoring too loudly.)

When I woke up about an hour outside of Paris, the weight of anxiety returned.
What are we going to do when we arrive? Where will we stay? How will we even get around?

Still half-asleep, I asked the passengers in our  compartment, “Do any of you speak English?”

One couple looked up. “Yes—we’re from Cedar Rapids, Iowa.”

I blinked. “No way. We’re from Des Moines.” (Des Moines is about 2 hours away from Cedar Rapids.)

Suddenly, we were old friends.  After they learned we were going to stay in Paris a couple days to explore it, they smiled warmly and said, “We used to live in Paris—we know it well.” And just like that, everything began to shift.

They told us exactly where to stay, how to get from the train station to our hotel, what to see-it was like having our own travel guides sent from heaven.

But God wasn’t finished.

Another woman sitting nearby—originally from Ohio but now living in Germany—had been listening in. “You need to get to Rome in a week?” she said. “I go all the time. Let me help.”

She gave us specific advice: where to stay, how to get around, and most importantly, how to avoid the grueling train ride from Paris to Rome. “Take a budget airline instead—it’s much cheaper and way faster.”

That one tip saved us hundreds of dollars… and fourteen hours of travel.

I sat back in awe.

Just hours earlier, when I desperately asked God for favor and direction, I had felt utterly lost, overwhelmed, and alone. And yet, in that tiny compartment on a European train, which I didn’t want to be in, God brought together exactly the people we needed:
—— Two kind strangers from our home state of Iowa—just to remind us we weren’t alone- who used to live in Paris and knew it well.

— A woman who knew Rome well.

I had prayed for favor. God gave us provision, direction, and companionship.
He didn’t just meet our needs—He exceeded them.

“Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine…”
(Ephesians 3:20)

That verse came alive for me that day.

This wasn’t coincidence. It was God. The same God who created the universe also arranges train compartments. The same Spirit who stirs hearts on mission fields in Asia also guided a worried father in a German airport.

We weren’t alone—not for a single moment.

Need encouragement in your journey?
We are never alone. Not even in a foreign country. Not even in our fear.

God sees, God knows—and yes, God still answers desperate prayers in the most unexpected ways and places.

Are you anxious, worried, or scared?  I totally understand that position.  I have been there often.  I just encourage you to meditate upon Philippians 4:6-7  “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” 

Prayer

Father, thank You for the open invitation to bring You every request—our joys, our thanks, our worries, and our needs. Thank You for being ever-present, knowing our hearts before we speak, and caring for us in such personal ways. You know us so deeply that You’ve counted every hair on our head. You guide our steps with precision, even to the very train compartment where we need to be. You go before us, weaving the details of our lives together with a wisdom and love beyond our imagination. Teach us to rest in Your presence, to trust Your perfect plan, and to remember that all things are under Your control. Thank You for being our loving Father, for inviting us close, and for the peace You give through Your promise to never leave us.

Amen.