Guided on the Tarmac of Life
A month ago, I was sitting on a plane heading to a much-needed vacation. As I looked out the window, my eyes fixed on the “aircraft marshal.” (It wasn’t until I really reflected on them that I learned what they were called.) In all my years of traveling I had taken them for granted, not even knowing their proper name, though I had always sensed their quiet importance and steady presence.
So, in this reflection this week I want you to imagine for a moment an airplane on the tarmac. It has landed safely, or it is preparing to depart but it cannot simply move wherever it wants. The space is busy, complex, and potentially dangerous. So there, in the open, stands a marshaller, armed not with long instructions or complicated tools, but with simple signals, steady movements, and full attention. The marshaller guides the plane safely to where it needs to go.
That image can teach us something deep about our Christian life especially when seen through the eyes of St. Francis of Assisi.
Because, in many ways, we are called to be like those marshallers. The marshaller doesn’t hide in a tower somewhere, they stand right on the tarmac, where the action is.
And St. Francis did the same. He didn’t wait for people to come to him. He went out into the streets, the marketplaces, the margins. He met people where they were.
So, the question for us is:
Are we willing to stand in the “tarmac” of people’s lives?
In our workplaces, our families, our neighborhoods, this is where God has placed us. Not to escape the world, but to be present within it, gently guiding others by how we live.
Marshallers don’t shout long explanations. Their signals are simple, clear, and visible.
St. Francis would understand that perfectly. His life was his message: simple, consistent witness lived day by day. His joy, his humility, his peace shone in his actions and words, and these were the clear “signals” that gently pointed people toward Christ.
In our own lives, we might ask:
Do others see peace in us, even in difficulty?
Do we show kindness when it isn’t convenient?
Do we live with simplicity in a complicated world?
Because often, the clearest way we guide others to Christ is not through many words, but through a life that quietly reflects Him.
Here is something essential:
The marshaller is never the destination. The plane doesn’t stop and say, “I’ve arrived—I’ve found the marshaller!”
No—the marshaller always points beyond themselves.
And this is at the heart of Franciscan/ Christian humility.
Our role is not to draw attention to ourselves. Not to make people dependent on us. Not to build our own importance. In a world that is so egocentric, we are called instead to practice quiet humility, serve others without seeking praise, and point people toward God rather than toward our own achievements.
Our mission is to say with our lives:
“Don’t look at me—look at Christ.”
Every act of love, every word of encouragement, every moment of patience becomes a signal saying:
This way. This is the path that leads to life. The tarmac can be confusing. There are obstacles, distractions, and risks.
So too in life.
People today carry burdens—confusion, anxiety, wounds, questions of meaning. Many are searching, even if they don’t have the words for it.
And like the marshaller, we are called not to judge or condemn, but to guide gently and wisely.
Sometimes that looks like:
Listening before speaking
Walking with someone through struggle
Offering hope when someone feels lost
We don’t force; we don’t push; we accompany.
A marshaller must remain attentive watching carefully, adjusting movements, responding to what is happening.
In the same way, we are invited to be attentive to the Holy Spirit.
Each person we meet is different. Each situation is unique. Our call is not to follow a script, but to be present, prayerful, and responsive.
That means asking: “Lord, how are You calling me to guide this person—right now?”
Friends, imagine what would happen if we truly embraced this calling.
If we stood where people already are…
If we lived with joyful simplicity…
If we pointed always beyond ourselves to Christ…
Then our lives would become those quiet, steady signals on the runway, guiding people, not by force, but by love.
St. Francis once said to his brothers:
“Let us begin again.”
Today, we can begin again—with a renewed calling:
To be humble guides.
To be clear witnesses.
To be people who help others find their way—not to us,
but to Jesus Christ, who is our true destination.
To keep this actionable over time:
Where was I most visible this week? Where was I absent?
Did I communicate clearly—or overcomplicate things?
Who did I help move forward?
Did anyone become overly dependent on me?
What did I notice happening around me that others might have missed?
Peace and all Good things!
To Jesus through St. Francis.
Thank you for allowing me to be part of your spiritual journey! Keep at it! Keep praying. Love the Lord.
Peace and Grace.Fran Acosta,OFS
