My first trip “across the pond” was drawing to a close, and I was thrilled. Thrilled to have spent a week on my own in England, and thrilled to be headed home. The plan was to take a bus from Oxford to London, make a quick tube trip from Paddington to Gatwick, then board my return flight to Houston. I’d checked the bus schedule the day before, and arrived on foot at the bus stop with what I thought were only minutes to spare.

But the minutes kept ticking by, and no bus. When I examined the schedule again, I realized that I’d written down the weekday departure times…and it was Saturday. So, I did what I had not done once in the previous ten days. I panicked. What if I couldn’t get to the city in time? What if I missed my flight? What if I had to spend the night in London?

With my heart in my throat, I began walking from the bus station to the train depot, and quickly bought a ticket for the next train heading to London. I say “heading” that way, because it stopped at every station between Oxford and London. Somewhere about the third stop, I was near melt-down. I started doing what I should have done before: I prayed.

When I opened my eyes, I glanced out the window. We were coming into Reading, and on the side of a building were painted these words: Take courage. I had just prayed for help, and, as near as I could tell, God’s answer to my fearful pleading was “take courage.”

I did. And I thanked Him for what I thought must have been a supernatural sign. But my courage didn’t last long. I kept looking at my watch, and thinking “I’m not going to make it. I’m really not going to make it.” I began again to pray, only this time I didn’t bother to close my eyes. We approached the next small town, and once more, incredibly, I saw painted on the side of another building the word Courage.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Okay, God,” I prayed. “I hear you. I get it. I do take courage in you. You know what needs to happen. Even if I miss my flight and have to spend the night on a train station bench, I’m trusting you. I’m not afraid. I got it. Courage. I’m taking courage in you.”

I made it to London. I made it to the airport. And I made it home on the flight I should have missed. But that’s not the best part. The best part happened a year later, when I was reading Irish actor Kenneth Branagh’s autobiography called “Beginning,” in which he mentioned living as a boy in Reading, England, where “Sutton Seeds, Huntley & Palmers’ and the Courage Brewery were the three names that distinguished the town.”

How does God speak to his children? If I didn’t know before, I know now. Any way He chooses – and I love Him for that.

“Sing to Him, sing praises to Him; speak of all His wonders.” (I Chronicles 16:9)

© Leigh McLeroy 2003