I Love Airports

I love airports - no really, I do.  I love going to pick people up and I love being the one greeted both going and coming, but that's not what makes me love them most.

I love the energy and emotion that an airport has.  It is almost tangible.  Excitement, nerves, pain, love, joy, frustration, happiness - all mixed into one place.  I love watching people at the airport - especially a large airport like Chicago or Newark (clarification - I don't like the Newark airport, but I do like people watching there). 

Airports can be so frustrating.  They are an exercise in self-control and integrity.  They can also be a place of great adventure - just think, you are getting on a plane and going thousands of kilometres and you barely have to do anything (except maybe sprint to catch a connection because you've been delayed, but that little bit of exercise never hurt anyone).  I've had my share of delays, lost luggage, cancelled planes and cranky flight attendants, but the joy that simply being at the airport brings me is worth all that - especially when you know that at the end of the flight there is a grand adventure, a wonderful friend, and a new place to explore.  I love that whether you are the passenger or the host that you contribute to the energy of the airport. 

I remember my first flight as I made my way to Quebec, barely a graduate from high school and embarking on my first adventure.  I remember coming home and crying the minute I saw my mom.  I remember the relief I felt when I arrived in Vienna and saw my checked baggage on the carousel.  I remember saying goodbye to the Aunties of Choir 35 in Washington, DC.  Our tears made the energy of that airport somber for a brief moment amidst all the bustle.  I remember Alesha picking me up the first time I went to Michigan to visit and our excitement made the airport come alive.  I remember the frustration of sitting on a plane in Chicago bound for Africa and the sorrow that came from that cancelled flight. I'm grateful for the joy of meeting a friend at home whom I hadn't seen in so long and loving the sight of her coming down the steps.  I'm glad I have the memories of meeting my grandma at the airport and her excitement to be in the freezing cold for Christmas because it meant being with us.

I can't wait for next airport adventure. It might be a long journey or a short one, but I know I'll enjoy it simply because it will be at the airport :)

An Emotional Blizzard

I wish to have a switch that I could use to turn off my emotions whenever I have need of a moments break from all the things twisting around in my head and my heart.  Emotions are a tricky part of life and lately mine have been swirling around like a cold Saskatchewan blizzard with a ferocious wind.  And just as I would like a break from the Saskatchewan cold, I would like a break from them.  The problem is that you can't jump on a plane to a tropical vacation spot to get away from them.  You have to plow through them and hope that your snow tires have enough traction to move you through the drift.

I don't know how to reign in these matters of the heart.  At what point do you finally say to yourself, enough is enough?  Is it possible to be stronger than the pull your emotions put you through to finally get to the other side? What if the problem is more so that you don't want to fight the emotion but you just want to give in to it?  Then what?  Then you've got a big problem...that's what.

Remembering

Hugs.  Butterfly kisses.  Story time.  Walks and talks. Hats. Giggles. Concerts. Bus rides. Hosties. Home. Playtime. Tears. Hard love. Starbucks. Target. New places. Dance parties. Skip Bo. Dutch Blitz. Church stays. Ferry rides. Alaska. Rest stops. eMPie. Singing.  Hotels. Devotions. Adventures. Love notes. Colouring. Movie nights. Forts. Camp. Mirembe.

It's been 3 years since my tour life came to a close.  Strange how far away yet close it feels.  I don't dwell on tour like I did when I first came home, but everyday, I look at the picture of my kids and feel a little twinge of homesickness. 

I found this the other day and realized it is the perfect description of what I feel.  My tour home is a place I cannot return, yet find myself sometimes longing for.  My kids are becoming young adults and we'll never be together again the way we were for the 15 months we spent on the bus in constant community.

I miss those months.  Not with the desire to return to another tour, but to have my ACC family back on a bus together just one more time to make just one more memory.  I wish to sit with Reagan and Benson and read a book.  I want to play one more game of Skip Bo with Esther.  I want to listen to Deborah's jokes and hear her laugh.  I want to hear Ritah and Peace singing to their CD players.  I want to talk with Faith about life and love and all things difficult.  I want to see what treasures Alex and Rogers have stuffed in their pockets and what the plan is for them.  I want to listen to Ivy and Stella's stories. I want one more drawing from Jonah.  One more time to cook with James.  One more time to dance with Ruth. One more time to walk with Grace. One more play time with Derrick. One more moment to tell Brenda I love her. One more host family with Charity who made laughs abundant.  One more talk with Brian who is so insightful. One more hug from Priscillah who always needed just one more hug. One more love note from Naomi. I want to answer all of Eunice's crazy questions. I want to hear John sing so beautifully during the concert.

There will always be a little bit of longing for the moments on the bus.  I've been off tour longer than I was on it, but the imprint left on my heart will always outlast the time, the distance and the changes.