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I was on the third leg of a five-part trip that had taken me from Denver to Dallas to Chicago to Cleveland and back to Denver again.

I had been fortunate to get the room I had at O'Hare because bad weather had cancelled flights and everyone and their aunt were trying to find a place to spend the night. Arriving late into Chicago, I was glad to have a room waiting for me, and to get a good night's rest.

The next morning, the skies were bright and clear. The air was fresh, like it had just been scrubbed by the rain the day before. I was eager to get on to Cleveland, and soon had my bags packed, and stood out front of the hotel waiting for the shuttle to come to take me and a few others to the airport.

At this point, an elderly gentleman appeared with two bags. I say gentleman because he had the air of refinement and gracious upbringing: a light-colored sports coat, with maroon slacks and white shoes -- not anything you'd catch me dead in, but on him, it looked okay. I would learn later that he was from Santa Barbara, and on his way home.

Seeing me standing alone, and with apparently nothing to do, the gentleman approached me and said, "Would you mind watching my bags while I go inside for a cup of coffee?"

I said, "What makes you think that you can trust me with your bags?"

He smiled and nodded. There was a certain crook in the logic: Here he was in front of the hotel asking me to protect his bag from other people just like me.

"Well," he said, "generally, when you put your trust in people, they rise to the expectation."

I watched his bag.

I thought briefly of relocating to a different spot just to have some fun with the guy, but then the shuttle pulled up, and the driver started tossing our bags into the back. I gave him the bags of the gentleman from Santa Barbara and when the man returned a few moments later, a quick glance assured him that his bags were safe. He thanked me, and we had a nice conversation on in to O'Hare.

"Faith is being sure of what we hope for." I guess that's just another way of saying that you can trust God to watch over your stuff -- and over you.

I have a human tendency not to let my "stuff" go. I usually want it in my sight, under my control, where I can get at it.

Abraham was famously able to let God watch his "stuff" and to let God direct his life. That was his expectation and God rose to the occasion.

As he always does.