Everyday Kindness

I was on my way to Ohio for my brother’s funeral when I got the text: Flight delayed.

The delay meant I would likely miss the first night of gathering for his viewing. My heart sank. Grief already has a way of making you feel disoriented, and in that moment I felt helpless too. I whispered a simple prayer: Lord, get me there when I’m supposed to be there.

When I explained my situation to the gate agents, along with shedding a few tears, they didn’t treat me like a number. They leaned in, listened and cared, and immediately wanted to help me find a solution. Together they worked to get me on standby for an earlier connection through Chicago. What I didn’t know until later was that one of the agents quietly changed my seat assignment so I’d be near the front of the plane, just in case I made it on the earlier flight and needed to move quickly to the next gate.

It was such a small detail. But in that moment, it felt huge.

At the next gate, while waiting to see if I’d get a seat, I struck up a conversation with a man in line who worked for the airline. As we talked, we discovered we grew up in the same town. Our lives had brushed up against the same places, the same people. When I shared that I was traveling for my brother’s funeral, he gently told me he had lost his brother a few years ago too. Instantly, we understood each other and became fast friends. He and his wife offered comfort that only someone who has walked that road can offer. And when my name was finally called, again, the gate agent not only confirmed my seat, he gave me one in the front that would allow me to get off the plane quickly and make it to the viewing on time.

I arrived just when I needed to be there.

The Ministry of Small Things

That day, I was carried by the kindness of strangers. None of them preached a sermon. None of them did anything flashy or dramatic. They simply chose to care. To listen. To adjust a seat assignment. To offer a kind word. To share their own story of loss. And it reminded me that one act of kindness can reach deeper than we will ever know.

Taking the time to help or listen to others is becoming a lost art for many…but not all. Kindness is rarely convenient. It takes slowing down. It takes noticing. It takes being willing to enter someone else’s world, even briefly. But it is one of the simplest ways we reflect the heart of Christ in a world that often feels rushed and hardened.

• Pay attention — Start with awareness. Look up from your phone. Listen for the tone in someone’s voice. Watch for the person who seems anxious, grieving, or overwhelmed.

• Do the small thing — You may not be able to solve someone’s problem, but you can adjust a seat, hold a door, offer a sincere word of encouragement, or share a moment of understanding.

• Share your story — When appropriate, let people know they’re not alone. “I’ve walked that road too” can be more healing than advice.

• Assume God’s in the details — Your “small” act may be the very thing He uses to steady someone’s heart that day.

I went to Ohio grieving. I arrived encouraged and grateful, and was reminded ever so simply how God is still present in every detail of our lives, such as through gate agents, standby lists, shared hometowns, and seat assignments near the front of the plane.

Everyday kindness matters. You never know whose heart is hanging in the balance when you choose to give it.

God Bless You,

Carole