I don’t know what it is about an airport but, it always does something in me that other places do not do.
Sometimes, when I get caught with my head down, focusing on doing whatever it is that needs to be done at that time, I lose myself. And it’s so easy! It’s unbelievable how quickly I can forget who I am and why it is that I’m doing what I’m doing.
Whatever all that may be, it starts to break away when I am in an airport. Other settings, yes. But, more than any other place, airports.
It’s like when I am in an airport, I remember.
I remember the places I’ve been.
I remember all the things I’ve seen.
I remember the crazy beautiful people I’ve met.
I remember how I’ve felt.
Slowly, hazy at first, I remember until I can’t help but sit back, close my eyes, and just relive moments. Moments flying to Thailand the first time. Moments being frozen with fear on the flight to India, staring at the northern lights from the sky. Moments being more alive than ever before.
I just sit and soak in all of them. And, slowly, I remember why I’m doing what I’m doing. I remember that life happens in seasons, and that this too will come to pass. I remember that I will always look back and think it was better than it was.
And I remember, most importantly, that I am not the sum of my days. Who I am is not contingent on what I’ve done and where I’ve been and what I can show for it.
I am the sum of my relationship with God. For even in all those wonderful and vivid memories, what makes them just that, is the resulting connection to God I experienced. All of those experiences, and all that this little life is, are inroads to more of Him.
So, I sit. And I close my eyes. And I remember. I remember faces and smells and feelings, and I rejoice.
I really am the luckiest.