Airports
Written in the Denver International Airport:
I sit in an airport, waiting to fly to Chicago, then to London, then to Doha. It is a very long journey, but not the first time I have made this trip, and I am used to long journeys. I am not used to airports. I don't think there is anyplace in the world that quite feels like airports to me. There is no place that brings about so many strong emotions, both good and bad, as airports. I have so many memories, all of which surface when I come into an airport. I remember the first time I flew internationally, going to Kiev, and how it felt to leave the US for the first time. I remember how excited and nervous I was, playing a missionary for the first time. I remember how many wonderful people went with me. I remember going to Italy, suddenly hearing myself speak like a veteran to most of my fellow missionaries because I had been out of the country before. I remember leaving America behind and going to Holland, wishing God would let me stay. I remember leaving Holland behind and going to America, wishing God would let me stay. I remember the joy of going to England, to see Sam Whittington. I remember the frustration and fear of going to Northern Ireland for a vacation, only to be denied entry. I remember going to Austria, to Mexico, to the Czech Republic. I remember going on vacation, going on mission trips, and going to visit friends. I remember going home, and I remember leaving it.
Airports, to me, hold so much promise, danger, adventure, pain, joy, fear, and hope. I suppose that's because airports have brought me to so much promise, danger, adventure, pain, joy, fear, and hope. And so, as I sit in an airport, I can't help but feel a sense of wonder. Airports are supposed to be a place of transition, but too many things have happened to me in airports for me to view them that way. When I sit in an airport, I remember all the things that have happened to me because I have traveled so much, and it makes me think about the future. It makes me realize how much is possible. That scares me, and sometimes I feel sick with the fear, because I know just how bad things can get, and how easy it is to get there. But I also feel excited, embarking on a new adventure, and hopeful as well, knowing there will be remarkable beauty in whatever comes.
And so, I am not used to airports. Although I know my way around them, and am comfortable enough here, each time I am here it feels so fresh, new, and raw. In the end, sitting here with all these happy and painful memories, looking ahead into the great, shrouded future, one single thought comes to mind again and again: I love airports.
Perzik
I sit in an airport, waiting to fly to Chicago, then to London, then to Doha. It is a very long journey, but not the first time I have made this trip, and I am used to long journeys. I am not used to airports. I don't think there is anyplace in the world that quite feels like airports to me. There is no place that brings about so many strong emotions, both good and bad, as airports. I have so many memories, all of which surface when I come into an airport. I remember the first time I flew internationally, going to Kiev, and how it felt to leave the US for the first time. I remember how excited and nervous I was, playing a missionary for the first time. I remember how many wonderful people went with me. I remember going to Italy, suddenly hearing myself speak like a veteran to most of my fellow missionaries because I had been out of the country before. I remember leaving America behind and going to Holland, wishing God would let me stay. I remember leaving Holland behind and going to America, wishing God would let me stay. I remember the joy of going to England, to see Sam Whittington. I remember the frustration and fear of going to Northern Ireland for a vacation, only to be denied entry. I remember going to Austria, to Mexico, to the Czech Republic. I remember going on vacation, going on mission trips, and going to visit friends. I remember going home, and I remember leaving it.
Airports, to me, hold so much promise, danger, adventure, pain, joy, fear, and hope. I suppose that's because airports have brought me to so much promise, danger, adventure, pain, joy, fear, and hope. And so, as I sit in an airport, I can't help but feel a sense of wonder. Airports are supposed to be a place of transition, but too many things have happened to me in airports for me to view them that way. When I sit in an airport, I remember all the things that have happened to me because I have traveled so much, and it makes me think about the future. It makes me realize how much is possible. That scares me, and sometimes I feel sick with the fear, because I know just how bad things can get, and how easy it is to get there. But I also feel excited, embarking on a new adventure, and hopeful as well, knowing there will be remarkable beauty in whatever comes.
And so, I am not used to airports. Although I know my way around them, and am comfortable enough here, each time I am here it feels so fresh, new, and raw. In the end, sitting here with all these happy and painful memories, looking ahead into the great, shrouded future, one single thought comes to mind again and again: I love airports.
Perzik