Pensees: Airport Numbness

Airport Numbness

I’m going to the National Leadership Conference hosted by Calvary Baptist Theological Seminary. Stuck in the airport. Sanctification being sorely tested. Our 1 PM flight was canceled. Of course, we did not find this out until we were on the bus and near the airport. The only flight we could get on was at 8:40 which puts us in to Philly at some ungodly hour. We were chipper, upbeat, courageous and submitted to Sovereignty with happy spirits. Then we found out that our plane has been delayed again. It’s not leaving until 10:00. What this means is that I could have been home all day long, but here I sit wrestling with my bad attitude toward Chicago politics, the ATA, and the price-gouging highway robbery that is respectfully called vending. A bottle of water for your parched lips? Only $3.

Jess seems to be handling this like a true saint. But what else would you expect from a representative of SGA?

I was going to buy a coffee, but my wife reminded my of my commitment not to spend one cent on coffee this month. Why did I answer the phone? So, unless Jess buys me some coffee, I’m going to have to be Pharisaical (as I already have been) and buy myself a $3 Coke. Ah! So typical of the self-righteous I am… I flaunt my freedom from one vice, but award myself a substitute vice. At least it wasn’t coffee.

And Starbucks is closing today at 5PM. It doesn’t matter, however, to self-denying Baptist Lent observers like me. Doesn’t matter at all. In fact, I wish they’d close for the whole month. Although I have to give them kudos for a brilliant publicity stunt. The free advertising they’re getting out of this has got to be amazing. As if they’re going to teach the average Starbucks worker to be a better barista in three hours. Please. Some are brilliant (they’re my relatives), but others - my! - I wonder if they can learn anything in three hours!

I have been able to get a lot done. And I speak of my attitude hyperbolically. I just don’t want you to think that I’m completely victorious. Such a high estimation of me would only reactivate my latent incurable pride which has been for some time in recession due to my remarkable self-denial at the coffee stores. Being waylaid has its advantages, and I have seized them. I’ve been able to read a sizable chunk of Simon Schama’s monstrous work “Citizens: A Chronicle of the French Revolution.” I read it twelve years ago. Decided to read it again. Not sure why.

I’ve also listened to one of our men preach a great message from Galatians, written several letters, pontificated with a friend about the ins and outs of 1 Corinthians, advanced the NIU Sympathy project, pigged out on airport food, valiantly and stubbornly defended the one and only outlet (so it seems) in the entire O’hare airport, withstood the temptation to give the guy with the horrific b.o. a nasty glare (the stinker had to sit near the only outlet so I was stuck. And I’m not talking about Jess! SGA requires deodorant.), and blogged total incoherence. All in all, the time has not been wasted.

I can’t expect a bed of roses. The Apostle Paul had hardship in his ministry. Travel was not easy for him. So I’m in good company. The arms on these chairs do not go up so if I stretch out over them it will be a little lumpy. My shirt will probably be very wrinkled by the time I get to Pennsylvania. I have had to endure some hostility, but so did the Apostles. When people look at me with a you’ve-been-at-the-outlet-for-six-hours look I’ve maintained my composure and have had real peace. I know that my work is so much more important than theirs. It’s been a little tough because I have to strain to see the TV. Oh, well…

Well, Jess has persuaded me that we ought to go expose ourselves to airport robbery lest we famish. It means that we have to relinquish the outlet, a price I’m not sure we ought to pay for something as trivial and ephemeral as food. But what else can you expect from a guy who - gasp! - buys coffee!

(And don’t tell me I’m getting my reward down here. I know.)