When Life Interrupts Your Calling
13 days of silence, travel, and the quiet work of God
On March 11, 2026, I boarded a United Airlines Flight from Bogotá, Colombia to Houston, Texas, with a connecting flight to London, UK.
I was traveling to attend my nephew Anand Immanuel Arul’s wedding.
The last time I saw Anand, he was just 10 years old. Now, I was about to meet him again at 35—a successful banking professional, a top performer in his studies, a graduate of Lancaster University, and currently holding a strong position at Citibank in the UK.
I was excited—not just for the wedding, but for everything that comes with such gatherings: family, memories, and the possibility of new connections.
Some of my closest friendships in life have come from unexpected, random meetings.
I intentionally chose a seven-hour layover in Houston. From past experience, I knew that U.S. immigration officers often place me in secondary inspection—mostly due to my long employment and tax history in the United States. Over the years, those interactions have always been respectful on both sides.
Travel, however, always comes with small inconveniences—grumpy faces, overly authoritative airport staff, and sometimes curious looks at my Canadian passport.
This time, there was something extra.
My boarding pass had SSSS (Secondary Security Screening Selection) printed on it. I knew it would add at least an hour to my journey.
I stayed calm and followed every instruction. Two passengers ahead of me argued with the staff, but I understood—they were simply doing their job. Perhaps as a small reward for staying composed, they allowed me to board early.
Bogotá to Houston (UA 508)
The flight from Bogotá to Houston started smoothly. But as we approached Texas, heavy turbulence began.
Turbulence is not new to me. Years ago, on a JetBlue flight from New York to Buffalo, I experienced what felt like a 7,000-foot free fall. So I remained calm.
Next to me sat a Scottish couple, and across the aisle was a man I’ll call Jim. Most passengers avoided him—his appearance was rough, his clothes worn, his bag torn. But I reminded myself: as a servant of God, I must not judge. I smiled at him, and he immediately responded with warmth.
As the turbulence intensified, the atmosphere in the cabin changed. People were screaming, praying, recording videos—even updating their WhatsApp statuses in the middle of fear.
Jim and I remained calm.
Even the flight attendants looked at us as if we were from another world.
I had peace in my heart.
I knew my time was not up.
The Scottish woman next to me was overwhelmed with fear, struggling to hold back tears. Her partner tried to comfort her, but she remained anxious. So I gently engaged her in conversation—asking about Scotland, her favorite festivals, even pretending I needed help opening a snack packet just to distract her.
Slowly, she settled.
Not completely—but enough to smile.
Eventually, the flight was diverted.
Instead of landing in Houston, we touched down at Lake Charles Regional Airport, about 160 miles east of Houston.
The pilot announced we would wait for further instructions.
The uncertainty made passengers uneasy.
Jim and I, however, began a deep conversation. He turned out to be a spiritual traveler who had spent time across South America. For two hours, we spoke about the Amazon, plant medicine, and different belief systems. It was an unexpected and fascinating encounter.
Later, the pilot announced we would proceed to Houston. What should have been a short 160-mile flight took nearly two hours due to rerouting.
When we finally landed, I said goodbye to Jim. The Scottish couple rushed, worried about their tight connection to London.
As for me—I still had three hours.
I simply walked out calmly.
A thought lingered in my mind as I walked toward the immigration counter:
How many people missed the opportunity to speak with Jim, simply by judging his outward appearance?
I quietly thanked God for softening my heart—to see beyond appearances and to follow His commandment (1 Samuel 16:7).
USA Immigration
Unlike countries such as Singapore or Qatar, the United States does not allow simple airport transit. Every passenger must go through full immigration. For those in transit, they issue a C permit—a temporary entry for “immediate and continuous transit,” usually valid for up to 29 days.
Unless you are from a visa waiver country like Canada, transiting through the U.S. is not always straightforward.
I approached the immigration counter fully prepared. I had everything printed—flight tickets, hotel details, and the wedding invitation.
Here was the conversation:
Officer: Good evening, sir. Where are you going?
Me: Good evening, sir. I’m going to London, UK.
(He scanned my passport)
Officer: Have a good trip.
Me: Thank you, sir.
That was it.
Ten seconds.
And just like that—I was in the United States.
Moments like this remind me of something deeper:
God is always at work.
He hears our prayers.
He grants favor—even in places of authority, even in moments we expect resistance.
The Bible says:
“The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in Him” (Psalm 37:23).
What I expected to be a long, difficult process turned into one of the easiest entries I’ve ever had.
From there, I continued my journey. On United flights, checked baggage is usually transferred automatically between connecting flights. Still, out of habit, I went to the baggage claim area to double-check. My bag wasn’t there, which meant everything was on track.
I cleared security and reached the gate for my next flight to London. I still had two hours.
And as always—I started talking to people around me.
I’ve noticed something over the years: when you approach people with kindness, most are willing to open up. These days, I don’t talk much about myself. Instead, I gently turn conversations toward Him.
Because in every place—even in an airport lounge—there is an opportunity to reflect Christ.
Houston to London (UA 5)
The flight to London was on time, and I boarded quickly.
The man seated next to me asked, “Solo?”
Normally, I would ask, “Why do you ask?”
But I was tired and simply said yes.
He then requested if I could switch seats so he could sit next to his girlfriend.
I hesitated for a moment, but agreed and moved to seat 37C.
What felt like a small inconvenience turned into an unexpected blessing.
There was no seat behind 37C.
No tapping on the screen.
No one pushing the seat.
No complaints when reclining.
Even better—my adjacent seat remained empty.
Sometimes, what feels like a disruption quietly becomes a gift.
A few minutes later, I saw the Scottish couple walk in. They had missed their earlier connection, and United had placed them on this flight. When they saw me, their faces lit up with relief and joy.
It felt like we were all being carried through the same journey—each with our own story, yet somehow connected.
During the flight, I watched One Battle After Another starring Leonardo DiCaprio—not the best choice, but I stayed with it for all 160 minutes. After that, I slept for four hours and spent another two hours reading.
Soon, we landed in London.
A beautiful journey.
At Heathrow Airport, the process was seamless. As a Canadian passport holder, I used the automated gates—scan, walk through, and enter.
No delay.
No questions.
As I walked out, I saw the Scottish couple again in the distance. The woman smiled and nodded warmly. In that moment, I felt she had seen something—not just calmness, but faith at work through the journey.
I collected my luggage and followed the signs to the Underground. Everything was clearly marked, and yes—ChatGPT had already helped me with directions, routes, and pricing. A useful companion, when used wisely.
After three stops from Terminal 2, I got down at Hounslow Central. London was cold, and I had no mobile network. A kind stranger guided me toward my hotel, ibis London Heathrow Airport—just an eight-minute walk.
The hotel staff welcomed me warmly. The room was comfortable, and the internet was excellent.
I took a shower and called my brother. He was staying at my nephew’s home in Enfield. He asked me to come immediately. I hesitated for a moment—I was tired—but I knew this was the only opportunity to spend time together before the wedding.
Within 15 minutes, I was ready again.
Two hours later, I met him.
Moments like these reminded me of something simple yet profound:
There is a certain freedom in this season of my life.
I can move quickly.
I can decide without delay.
I can respond when family calls.
And in that freedom, I quietly thanked God.
London Days
Westminster Cathedral
On my second day in London, I went to Victoria Station and walked toward Westminster Cathedral.
I first heard about this place through Dallas Willard in his book Hearing God. He wrote:
“I spent a great deal of my time in Westminster Cathedral (not Westminster Abbey) in meditation and prayer… In the cathedral… there is a divine presence beyond all national histories… something about the vast, obscure interior of that building impresses me with the nearness of God.”
I wanted to experience that for myself.
He was right.
There was a stillness… a quiet weight… a sense of God’s nearness that is difficult to explain.
I sat there with my Bible, read a few chapters, and prayed—for the wedding, for my family, and for you. During those two hours, God spoke gently to my heart. Not loudly, but clearly.
Sometimes, in the middle of travel and movement, God invites us into stillness.
Wedding Day
The wedding took place on March 14 at Six Park Place. The bride’s father had been a member of the club for 40 years, and it was his desire to celebrate his daughter’s wedding there.
It was a beautiful gathering—family, friends, meaningful conversations, and new connections.
I wanted to give them a gift.
These days, I choose to give only one kind of gift—a Bible.
Other gifts may fade, lose value, or be forgotten. But the Word of God has the power to transform, restore, and guide a life.
So I walked into Hatchards—a bookstore that has stood since 1797. The staff guided me to the Bible section, where I found a beautiful burgundy KJV Bible. Only one piece remained.
I took it immediately.
At the counter, a staff member named David carefully gift-wrapped it. We spoke as he worked, and when I asked how much I owed for the wrapping, he simply said it was free.
In a city like London, where almost nothing is free, that small act touched me deeply.
Again, I saw the kindness of God—in simple moments.
Anand and Clementine looked radiant—like a scene from a movie. The evening was filled with celebration, laughter, music, and, of course, champagne.
As the wedding came to an end around 10 PM, I planned to call an Uber to return to my hotel.
At that moment, a kind Indian family approached me—Dr. Vishwas and his family. They offered to drop me off at my hotel, and I gladly accepted. London was cold, and this simple gesture meant a lot.
I mentioned that I was staying at the IBIS hotel near Heathrow. However, there are several IBIS locations around the airport, and the GPS led us to the wrong one.
It could have been frustrating.
But Dr. Vishwas displayed remarkable patience. He calmly asked for the correct address, adjusted the route, and drove another six kilometers to make sure I reached safely.
In that quiet act of kindness, I saw something again:
God provides—not always in big ways, but often through people who are willing to help.
One Year of Sobriety
On March 22, 2025, in Bogotá, I had my last drink—a tequila shot while celebrating my friend Samir’s birthday.
That day, I made a decision: no more alcohol.
Today, as I write this, I complete one full year of sobriety.
This was not easy.
In Canada, drinking often requires planning—going to a store or a bar. But in Latin America, alcohol is everywhere. It is part of daily life.
Yet through all my travels, gatherings, and even this wedding in London, I did not drink a single drop.
Even in moments where it would have been socially easier to say yes—I chose no.
Because this was not just a personal decision.
This was sanctification.
When we try to change on our own, it may last for a while. But when God transforms us, He not only changes our desires—He gives us the strength to remain in that change.
The Bible says:
“It is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill His good purpose” (Philippians 2:13).
At the wedding, not drinking champagne may not have looked “normal” to others. But I made a quiet decision in my heart:
I will choose what pleases Him.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Private Battles, Public Grace
Even in joyful gatherings like family weddings, there can be moments of disappointment.
I experienced one such moment.
But I chose not to react.
Not everything needs to be spoken.
Not everything needs to be exposed.
Sometimes, spiritual maturity is simply this:
to remain steady, to guard the heart, and to respond with grace.
The Bible reminds us:
“The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control” (Galatians 5:22–23).
Later, I called my brother Arul and told him:
“Arul, I came to the marriage because of you.”
One sentence.
Clear. Honest. Complete.
And then I let it go.
A New Me
A year ago, I was drinking alcohol through a plastic pipe.
Today, I am walking in sobriety.
This is not my strength.
This is God’s work.
Every day is still a challenge.
But every day, God gives grace.
As Alexis de Tocqueville once said:
“The final aim of life is placed beyond life.”
Our purpose is not limited to this world.
It is revealed slowly—through grace, through surrender, and through the quiet work of God in our lives.
I cannot fully explain it.
But I can see it.
And I am learning to follow it.
London Eye
The following day, I decided to explore London.
I wasn’t interested in museums this time. I’ve visited many around the world, and I didn’t feel the need to spend on tickets. Instead, I wanted to see what the city freely offered—what could be experienced simply by walking.
My simple goals were to see three places: Big Ben, the London Eye, and London Bridge.
I took the Underground from Hounslow to Green Park and began walking on a quiet Sunday morning. All three landmarks are aligned along the banks of the River Thames.
I reached Big Ben exactly at 12 PM and paused to take it in.
From there, I walked toward the London Eye—a giant wheel standing over the city. I stopped at Starbucks for a cappuccino and a muffin.
At the counter, I asked the staff, “How are you doing today?”
She paused, smiled, and looked slightly surprised—as if no one had asked her that in a long time. She asked me the same question in return and then guided me to a comfortable place to sit.
A small act.
But kindness always finds its way back.
After my break, I walked toward London Bridge. It is a simple structure—not as grand as one might imagine. Yet, as I stood there, memories surfaced—the childhood song “London Bridge is Falling Down” and scenes from the movie Love Actually.
It reminded me of something deeper:
We often remember places because of stories attached to them.
In the same way, the Word of God plants truth in our hearts—so that one day, when we stand before Him, those words will not feel unfamiliar, but known.
Later, I returned to Hounslow Central. In the evening, I visited the local market filled with Asian food stalls and had a simple Indian meal.
While I was eating, an Indian engineer started a conversation. What began as a casual exchange turned into an hour-long sharing of his life—his struggles, his divorce, his journey.
I didn’t give advice.
I didn’t preach.
I simply listened.
And at the end, he thanked me.
After that, I stopped by a tea shop where an Indian student was working. Life as a foreign student in countries like the UK or Canada is not easy—it takes years to find stability.
I spoke with her for a few minutes, asking about her life.
As I was leaving, she said something that stayed with me:
“No one talks to me. At least you spoke today. Thank you.”
In that moment, I realized something again:
God places us in specific places—not always to achieve something big, but sometimes simply to be present, to speak kindly, and to listen.
The next morning, I boarded my flight to Casablanca, Morocco via Madrid.
A new journey had begun.
When Life Interrupts Your Calling
For 13 days, I did not write.
From Bogotá to Houston…
From turbulence to unexpected conversations…
From London streets to quiet moments in a cathedral…
From a wedding celebration to one year of sobriety…
Life was moving.
At first, I thought my routine had been interrupted.
I wondered if I was losing discipline… losing focus… losing momentum.
But now I see it differently.
God was not interrupting my calling.
He was shaping it.
Every delay… every conversation… every unexpected moment—
was part of His work in me.
The seat change on the flight…
The calm in the middle of turbulence…
The unexpected ride through a kind stranger’s patience…
The free gift wrap in a bookstore…
The quiet prayer in a cathedral…
The strength to say no to alcohol…
The patience to remain silent in disappointment…
The conversations with strangers…
None of these were accidents.
They were all part of a deeper calling.
Sometimes, we think our calling is in what we produce—
our writing, our work, our visible output.
But often, God is more concerned about who we are becoming
than what we are producing.
The Bible says:
“To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven” (Ecclesiastes 3:1).
This was not a season of writing.
This was a season of being shaped.
And now, I return—not just with words,
but with a deeper understanding of His work in my life.
Sometimes, God pauses what we do
to transform who we are becoming.
About the Author
Lawrence Manickam is a servant of the Lord and founder of Calvary International Mission. Born in India, shaped in Canada, and carrying Mexican permanent residency, he lives an international life, sharing the love of Christ across cultures. In July 2024, he completed his Master of Arts in Pastoral Counseling at Liberty University, Virginia.
He is the author of three Christian books:
📘 Free From Lo-Debar
A journey into restoration, identity, and the God who brings His children out of forgotten places.
📘 Hearing the Holy Spirit in Everyday Moments
A collection of true encounters, testimonies, and reflections on learning the voice of the Holy Spirit in daily life.
📘 Trump & Jesus (Pre-Order)
A bold and provocative exploration of leadership, faith, culture, and the spiritual forces shaping American history.
If you need biblical counseling, prayer support, or simply a listening ear, feel free to contact him.
✨ Want more encouraging messages like this? Subscribe to receive future posts straight to your inbox.