Sleeping In An Airport Chapel In Paris
I laid my head down on my travel neck pillow and closed my eyes to try to sleep on one of the four wooden pews of the airport chapel.
I was in Paris.
After my first flight from Chicago to London had been delayed the previous evening/morning, I had to literally sprint to be the last one on my flight from London to Paris. And the only reason that I made that one was because it was delayed 45 minutes. I wasn’t that lucky on this last one. I had what would have normally been a reasonable layover, but…But with the 45-minute delay and the fact that I had to make an hour bus ride to a different airport in Paris, I just missed my last flight, the one taking me to Morocco.
I got to the airport in Paris, and there was nothing I could do. I do have to give thanks to all the airport and airline employees during this ordeal. They were friendly and helpful throughout, even as I was having to repeatedly remind myself “patience.”
The outcome: I would have to wait until 1pm the following day for the next flight to Agadir, Morocco.
I decided I would stay at the airport that night.
I know I could’ve went to a hotel and came back the next morning, but I didn’t know Paris, I didn’t know French. This was the beginning of my trip, and I didn’t know how much money I was going to need later. I had just spent an unexpected amount to re-book. I was just relieved that I was able to navigate the process to get onto the next flight. I wasn’t ready to take anymore transportation risks to and from airports. It felt safer to just be at the airport already.
Welcome to my first day of solo international travel, right? As I left the airline ticket counter and headed to a nearby seat, I imagined the possibility of this situation ending up like the movie The Terminal. Tom Hanks plays a man whose country becomes politically unstable and therefore not recognized by the U.S. while he’s on his flight. Because of the particular regulations, he ends up having to live in the airport for an extended time. How long I could do that for?
It was going on 7:30pm, and I hadn’t had anything that could pass as dinner, so the next step was finding food. I found the airport chapel unexpectedly on my way. It was tucked away on the second level near the McDonald’s…an interesting place for a chapel if you ask me. Regardless, I followed my stomach’s call first, and to its misfortune (or good fortune depending on how highly you think of McDonald’s), my debit and credit cards got declined (they ended up being fine the rest of the trip). So, I stuck to my Clif bars, and went to the chapel.
In the dozen or so other airports that I had been to, I’d never found a chapel. Then again, I wasn’t usually looking. Apparently, a majority of the busiest airports in the U.S. have them. Even though I wasn’t looking this time either, I was glad to find it.
The chapel was an oval-shaped room with a clear glass partition in the middle, separating the two halves. A few rows of pews on each side. The outer walls were made of thin slabs of misshaped stone laid vertical. The tabernacle and crucifix were on the other side of the glass wall facing my side. It was an odd set up, but everything about this day was odd already, so I went with it. In the back on my side, there was also what appeared to be a metal shell to a jet engine. Inside the shell, sat a white card with a prayer in French on it.
I was glad to find the chapel because I wanted some time of reflection and peaceful silence. Up until that point, the day had been characterized by sitting and waiting anxiously on a plane, sprinting through crowds of strangers, trying to look normal and not at all suspicious while walking through security, and the like. It was all about looking ahead to the next despite having no clue where I was actually going.
At the chapel, I left all that and was able to sit in the here and now. The here and now.
Being there in that weirdly-constructed chapel, I felt better than expected. I knew that there is no priority boarding with God. He takes everyone and puts them first in his heart. And no matter how impatient I had been that day, God is infinitely patient with me.
Yes, I was wrapped in the warm blanket of God’s love for me, and I could rest in the comfort of a conversation with Jesus. Those anxieties and fears I had were still there for a bit longer — fears of missing flights, of running out of money, and of having stuff stolen while I slept overnight at the airport. The difference now though was that I recognized I wasn’t alone.
God’s promise to us is that we will never have to suffer alone. We will always have Him with us. I don’t know about you, but that seems like a pretty good promise to me. In fact, it has become my go-to mantra in the middle of stressful situations: “God is with me…God is with me…God is with me.”
I don’t share this for you to be impressed with my “holiness” because this is all kind of new to me. It takes time to grow in this trust, and I’m still learning one day at a time. This past year was instrumental for that. Working at a church, I would often use the chapel for 10–15 minutes when no one else was there. I loved that!
After 15 minutes in the chapel here, I decided that this is where I would sleep that night. No one had come in or out since I’d been there. The McDonald’s was going to close at 11pm, but the chapel wasn’t going to close. Plus, I had the Lord looking over me. It felt fitting too, like everything was coming full circle. Here I had spent the past year working and living in a church, and now a week later, there I was again: spending the night in a chapel.
In the Gospels, there are tons of stories of the Pharisees resisting and working against Jesus. If I were to guess, I think the Pharisees were so resistant because they were afraid…afraid that Jesus was going to turn their lives upside down. In contrast, there were others — people who were sick, blind, or societal outcasts — who sought out Jesus, for that same reason: so that he would turn their lives upside down.
Far too often in my life, I’ve acted more like the Pharisees than the other group. I resist what Jesus is trying to do with me. I turn my sights on worldly things I think are going to fulfill me or bring me peace: work, social media, women, food. But things seem to just get better when I stop resisting Jesus in my life.
Sometimes it takes missing a flight and cards getting declined at McDonald’s for me to start paying attention and stop resisting. And when I do, I have the chance to spend the night in a tiny airport chapel and thoroughly enjoy it.
A good verse to read if you’re ever stuck in an airport: Jeremiah 29:11–14
For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the LORD, plans for your welfare, not for woe! plans to give you a future full of hope. When you call me, when you go to pray to me, I will listen to you. When you look for me, you will find me. Yes, when you seek me with all your heart, you will find me with you, says the LORD
