Tonight as I drove into the airport for the umpteenth time in the last nine months I realized that I have a favorite parking deck, know by heart which floor the crosswalks are on, and am starting to recognize the faces of various employees. The airport is starting to feel a little too much like home.
Over the last nine months I have become extremely well acquainted with the Tampa and New Orleans airports. They feel very familiar and in a matter days these places bring peace, anxiety, hope, joy, and stability.
How can that be? Well, when I’m headed south I know I’ll be hugging my momma within hours and will have three baby girls giggling with glee that Bethy’s home. When I’m headed north I’m going back to routine, stability, and somewhat of a normal world (I am a college minister!). However, also feelings of fear, worry, and anxiety accompany the southbound trip when scans, oncology appointments, and the unknown await. The companion of stability is not looking in moms eyes each day, not seeing her walk, or being an active part of daily life. So, going south and going north both hold hope and fear.
I don’t understand how those co-habitate in my heart but they do… how can fear abide where hope is living? Sin. The answer is that I haven’t turned all of this over to the God of the Universe, the Creator of all, the One who loves mom more than I ever will. I’m working on it. He is teaching me to be still. He is taking me into a time of quiet, rest, and focus. God is doing a new thing which also brings hope and a little fear [of the unknown].