Airports are one of the most fascinating places on earth for me. I used to hate them, the endless waiting, lines, lots of people, boring hours filled with nothing. But after traveling a lot in the last two years, I have grown to absolutely love them.
They offer endless possibilities to watch and observe people. People travel from all over the world. They are all coming and going from different places, each for their own reasons. I usually end up spending most of my time at the airports wandering around, marveling and each unique airport layout, eavesdropping on random bits of conversations (which makes for some humorous passing of the time), and just making up my own stories about people and why they may be at the airport.
There's a man in his mid twenties carrying a single laptop bag. He's a minimalist, and is ready for the traveling to be over before it even starts. Then there's the overwhelmed mother trying to coordinate all of her four children to safely make it on and off of the moving walkway. She is also trying to balance five different bags, and drag a stroller behind her. Her husband is lagging behind, searching through his wallet for his driver's license, hoping he didn't leave it at home on the counter.
Then there's a serious looking business man carrying a locked, plastic briefcase box that looks like it has been through two wars- and almost lost. Inside, he carries important documents that hold his nations security. He grips it tightly, surveying all of the people around him, making exit plans if necessary. He is clipping on at a good pace, anxious to make it to his next gate and wait in grave silence as he guards his lock box.
A woman stands leaning against the wall outside of a shop. She's talking very loudly, but no one is around her. Maybe she's crazy? Oh wait, no, she has a blue-tooth in. Not crazy. At least, not this time.
I see two men approaching the security line in the distance. They are dressed in military fatigues, carrying a standard military backpack as well. One is accompanied by an older couple, his parents. The other, by his young wife, and his small baby. The wife has tears streaming down her face, and she holds on to her husband with a fierce grip. She can't stop crying, and I am almost moved to tears by watching as well. The other military man grasps his father's firm handshake, and then after a second of hesitation gives him a huge hug. His mother's eyes are glistening with tears as well, and she holds him in a tight embrace for a moment. After these tearful goodbyes, the soldiers make their way through the security line, leaving their tearful families behind.
People of every age, race, dress, class, and style pass through the corridors of this international traveling space. And I am in raptures. I soak in every second, letting my imagination run wild with possibilities. With stories tragic, comedic, and stories that seem like fairytale. Airports are like tiny melting pots and cities, and I love it now.
So next time you're bored at the airport, just take out your headphones, and spy out the area, and make your own stories. Or strike up a conversation with someone next to you. I have met some incredibly kind and wonderful people at airports and on planes.
I know God has made some divine appointments on flights and in airports for me, and I cherish those little moments. Even while I sit in this airport typing, I smile. I pray that I leave my heart and my eyes and ears open to God's prompting. That if He moves, I follow and strike up a conversation with that scared looking woman, or laugh with that random husband and his children at some small blunder in the airport. That wherever I go, I look for moments to spread God's hope and love, in spoken and unspoken ways.
