I went looking for Christmas yesterday. In all the hustle and bustle, stress, change and challenges, I havent been able to find it this year. So I went on a quest to find it. I didnt find it at the Jackson airport. But I did see the Lords handiwork somewhere over eastern Mississippi as the sun broke the horizon. The plane dipped into the clouds, making us feel like we were doing a low-level trench run through mountain peaks. The normally white puffy nimbus clouds were painted orange to celebrate a new day. A day I knew would be emotional. But Christmas wasnt on my Delta flight. I enjoyed my delicious Delta cookie and prepared myself for the soulless joy that is Hartsfield-Jackson airport. Maybe Christmas would be there. Nope. It wasnt. But I did see one of the stars of one of my favorite shows. And he did play Jesus once in a movie -- so thats kind of close. I rented a car and headed out onto Atlantas interstates. Trust me, there is no Christmas spirit on I-285. I pulled up to my parents home -- a house where they have lived nearly all my whole life. I looked in the backyard where I played as a child. I closed my eyes and all my childhood dogs came running to the fence to greet me. Then as soon as my eyes opened, their ghosts were gone. I opened the backdoor and walked in -- you never have to knock at your mamas house, you know -- and was greeted by my dad. That he knew me was a special gift. My mom came out, too. She looked pretty in her reddish sweater. I hugged them and tried to lock that memory into my mind. But Im learning that memories arent to be taken for granted. They can be stolen as easily as the Grinch steals a Whoville Roast Beast. We went to my dads doctors appointment and then out to eat. Christmas carols played quietly in the restaurant. But Christmas wasnt there for me. My mind was filled with worry. My search continued. The afternoon flew faster than the plane I needed to catch and I had to say goodbye to my parents. Ill see them in a few days -- but as days go by, I realize what a precious commodity time really is. A few days might as well be a lifetime. I watched them as I pulled away -- I know that Ill soon be watching my own children pull away. Im not prepared for that. Im not sure my parents ever have gotten used to it, too. A friend from high school called and said a bunch of them had formed a mens prayer group and they were wrapping gifts for needy kids. It was on my way to the airport, so I stopped in for 15-minutes and saw many of my childhood friends. Theyve all grown into good, good men. I dont what it was about my high school, but we turned out OK. I headed back south through downtown Atlanta and on to the airport. I dropped off my car, rushed through security and ate some delicious airport food. My flight was crammed tight and I watched quietly as dozens of people, each with their own stories to tell, entered my life for our shared flight. Our plane pushed back from the gate and its engines roared to life (I was in the back by the engines -- so they REALLY roared). I suspended my search for Christmas as the plane once again defied gravity. Somewhere over Alabama, I mentally replayed my day. First, I thought about the sunrise on the mornings flight. Then I remembered my dads smile when I told him about my sons scouting achievements. I marveled at the beauty of the skyscrapers in downtown Atlanta. My heart warmed from the memories of my childhood. I thought of my old friends not just preaching their faith but actually living it. I saw kind acts in an airport that is too busy for kindness. I felt love for my parents. I was grateful I survived Atlantas rush hour. I found good in a sea of bad. And as the Delta flight touched down in Jackson, Mississippi, I felt something I have not felt in a long, long time. I felt peace. I had found Christmas after all.
Posted on: Wed, 17 Dec 2014 14:36:57 +0000
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