SEEING THE HEART BEHIND THE HASSLE
Del Griffith (John Candy)—bless him—comes to us on the screen as a whirlwind of chatter, chaos, and endearing frustration; yet if we linger long enough to look past the noise, we begin to see something precious glowing beneath the surface. In Planes, Trains and Automobiles, Neal (Steve Martin) sees only the irritation at first—the spilled drinks, the endless talking, the misplaced optimism that grates on weary nerves. But as the journey unfolds, the Lord gives us a gentle reminder: what we notice first about a person is rarely the truest thing about them. And what seems bothersome, inconvenient, or exhausting may be the very place where Christ is quietly teaching us patience, compassion, and understanding.
As the story deepens, we discover that Del carries a heart shaped by loneliness, yet overflowing with kindness; a soul wounded by loss, yet still determined to brighten the lives of others. He hides his pain not with bitterness, but with an almost childlike joy—choosing to bless rather than burden, to give rather than grasp. And isn’t that a picture of how many people move through this world, smiling through sorrow, laughing through heartbreak, loving through their own unseen valleys? Christ invites us to pause long enough to see such souls the way He does; with tenderness, with grace, with eyes that search deeper than outward annoyances.
By the end of the film, Neal learns what we so often must learn ourselves: that God can place extraordinary goodness in the most unlikely vessels, and that beneath someone’s rough edges may lie a heart of pure gold. The man he once dismissed becomes the friend he cannot let walk alone. And in that shift—quiet, humble, relational—we see the beauty of Christlike love: a love that looks beyond the irritation, beyond the inconvenience, beyond the surface, and sees the person within. A love that refuses to measure anyone merely by their quirks but instead honors the image of God in them.
So let Del’s story speak to us—softly, kindly, and with the warmth only grace can bring. Let it remind us that every person we meet carries a world we cannot see, and that Jesus, who looks past all our flaws, calls us to do the same. When we choose patience over frustration, compassion over judgment, and gentleness over irritation, we begin to love as He loves; we begin to truly see. And in seeing, we discover that behind the “annoying stranger” may stand a soul aching for kindness, a friend waiting to be found, and a lesson from the Lord wrapped in the most ordinary disguise (1 Sam. 16:7).
BDD