Last Sunday we had a flight out of New Orleans at 5:30 a.m.

Now I know what you’re thinking.

Why in the world would anybody book a flight that requires you to get up in the middle of the night?

Good question.

I was headed to a conference. It was a nonstop flight. The plan was

simple—get there early, maybe explore a little, ease into the day.

Well… not so much.

With the partial government shutdown and TSA staffing shortages, we knew we were rolling the dice. But hey, I’ve never met a challenge I didn’t at least consider taking a swing at.

We got to the airport about two hours and forty minutes early thinking, How bad could it be?

Ugh.

When we pulled up to the departure area, that was the first sign.

People everywhere.

Still, ever the optimist, I’m thinking, We’ve got time.

Lou, on the other hand, was already checking the next available flights. I’m over there thinking,

Keep your powder dry. It ain’t over yet.

While we were standing in line for bag drop, we noticed people running.

Now my natural inclination when I see people running is to go the other way. But Lou’s curiosity got the best of her, and off she went to investigate.

Turns out TSA PreCheck was shut down.

Not enough help.

Airport staff were routing people back outside, through the parking deck, and then back in again to try to manage the crowd.

At that point, we were all just part of the system.

Somewhere along that journey—after dropping our bags and heading back outside—we met Ms. Sue Cain.

Ms. Sue was traveling alone, and it didn’t take long to see she was overwhelmed. Confused. A little shaken by the chaos of it all.

Lou didn’t hesitate.

She does this thing where she just adopts people.

Next thing I know, we’re a group.

Party of three.

I was all in on helping the nice lady. That part felt natural enough.

But then something happened.

We were on an elevator in the parking deck, heading down to the first floor, and I glanced over and saw Ms. Sue quietly praying.

Not loudly. Not for show.

Just… praying.

And in that moment, I felt like we had been assigned something.

Not by the airline.

Not by TSA.

Something else.

From that point on, we were together.

For the next couple of hours, we walked that maze of lines and rerouted pathways side by side.

And in between the movement and the waiting, we talked.

We learned she was headed to Nashville.

Her daughter is dealing with a serious cancer diagnosis, and Ms. Sue was going to be there to help care for her.We learned her husband is a retired state trooper.

We learned she has two grandbabies.

And somewhere along the way, she started to settle.

You could see it happen.

The tension left her shoulders. The worry eased just a little.

When people asked, we didn’t explain anything.

We just said, “Party of three.”

My friend Mr. Jeff has a saying: There’s many a slip between the cup and the lip.

And he’s right.

Things can go sideways in a hurry.

Flights get missed. Plans fall apart. Systems break down.

But sometimes, in the middle of all that, something else shows up.

What are the odds that we would meet Ms. Sue in that crowd?

What are the odds that Lou would go looking in the direction I was trying to avoid?

What are the odds we’d end up walking that whole path together?

About halfway through, Ms. Sue looked at us and said, “My daughters are going to be tickled y’all took care of me.”

That one stuck.

We didn’t fix anything.

We didn’t speed up the line.

We didn’t change the outcome.

We just showed up.

And for a couple of hours in a crowded airport, that was enough.

Sometimes the assignment isn’t about getting where you’re going.

Sometimes it’s about who you’re walking with on the way.

At least, that’s how I remember it.