In honor of my least favorite holiday I have a few words about fear. I am afraid of many many things. Most of them are in the form of decorations this time of year but I, for one, could do without them. I am a scare-dy cat and always have been.
A few weeks ago I took George (the one who is three years old) on a plane by myself from LA to DC for a wedding. The wedding was extra special, so the posts that followed outlined the happy weekend of celebration, the visit with my parents, and my toast to my dear friend. What I neglected to tell my sweet readers: the reality of the travel that was required. It was horrible. I missed my first flight out of LAX. Traffic was to blame, but I guess I should know better and leave earlier. George was even sweet enough to risk work trouble to drive us there. The minute I walked into the airport though, I knew if I missed my flight it would not be entirely my fault. After I had walked back and forth four times and found myself in two wrong lines, I realized that our success depended upon a lady or man in a red vest who would ask the question "What are you trying to do". This is not a good strategy American Airlines. Not good at all. No one knew what line was what or who should be in it. I was completely out of my element. Big George is the one that organizes us in the airport, holds our tickets, checks us in, decides if bags need to be checked, etc. Well, not this time. It was all on me. Now I am excellent at the distract-the-baby game, the keep-the-baby happy game, the hold-the-baby-while-I-do-this game. But apparently I am terrible at the get-us-on-the plane game, which is NOT a game by the way. Long story short, by the time I was told that I had to check the bag that I did not think I had to check it was too late. It was 9:00 and I had been in the airport two hours already with a tired,hungry and bored little boy. I had gotten no where and I had already given him the whole bag of fruit snacks. If you are a mom these days, you know exactly what that means. I pulled out the big guns (fruit snacks) five minutes into this whole ordeal. I thought it was worth the risk. So by the time I got to ticketing, he was tired, hungry, bored and sugar infused. This is not a good combination folks, not good at all. I got new tickets for another flight that was supposed to board soon. The attendant looked at me and said "Go.... NOW"-meaning if you don't hurry, we will meet again. So I finally get upstairs to find myself in a very long line again. Security. An old yankee lady tried to tell George not to mess with the trashcan and I probably burned a hole between her eyes with the with the look I gave her. Then the same lady says sarcastically to me when I took George's shoes off (because he wanted to and it was not a battle I chose to fight today) , "Oh- he looks like a terrorist all right". I wanted to say, "Woman, if you say that 'T' word around me and my child again, I am going to strangle you". YES. I WAS AT THAT POINT. Then the nice people at the conveyer belt ask me if I have any liquids to which I exasperatedly replied, "I don't think so...maybe a yogurt for the kiddo?" Well y'all, they found liquids on me. I admit it, I was armed. I carried concealed European style yogurt and a couple of applesauce packs for ammunition. "uhhh, mack, can you come over here?...I gotta L-42...." Oh great, Mack was the guy I lied to on accident when I told him I didn't have liquids. So he, from his throne of grace, had pity on me and sent me away with my liquids. Praise God, someone did something nice and reasonable. OK- so then I put George's shoes back on and say, "Honey- how fast can you run?". My sweet little angel took off and I followed. Up one flight of stairs, saw the gate number and boom- we were there right as they boarded first class. I just jumped right in line, head down, tickets out, like I owned the place. At this point I was not even sure if this was the right plane. Seriously, I remember the thought that I could be headed to North Dakota but I could not have cared less. Just get me out of that airport. So we sat and I buckled him in. Shoo- Mercy. We have been up since 5:00 am. It is after 9:30 am and we would not arrive in DC until 5 pm. The plane ride was the best part and that includes the two trips to the bathroom and George's poor aim that added to my outfit from my shoulders to my waist. Not to mention his second trip came 2 minutes after the first trip to the lavatory and also fit in perfectly with the last 5 minutes of the in-flight movie. We landed in perfect time for 5:00 Friday afternoon traffic in DC. Yay! Poor Daddy had to drive us but I was happy as a clam in that car.
So the wedding was perfect. My parents were perfect. Lindsay was gorgeous, George was amazingly cute.
On the way back I was so afraid. Afraid that we would not be able to find the airport, afraid that I would miss yet another flight. Afraid we would be delayed, afraid of another lavatory accident, afraid that I would loose George in the airport. So many fears. I tried to dispel a few of the fears by my arrival, three hours early. After a very long security line I was made aware that I still had a full water bottle. I realize that to folks who work in airports this must be a huge annoyance but I am sorry, its just not the first thing on anyone's mind, especially those who travel with children. "I've got my wallet, keys, passport, boarding ticket, my child....oh yeah, the water bottle. Let me empty that. OK, where was I? I have the diapers, wipes, snacks, and DVD player....."
Anyway, I see commotion as I walk George through the x-ray machine and then this guy walks over me like I am about to have to go to the principles office. He gives me a shake of the head as if to say, "Tisk -Tisk, you bad girl. You have water in your water bottle. I'll have to ask the Queen but I am pretty sure its 'Off with your head' for this one". I mean seriously folks, someone gives you a tiny itsy bitsy bit of power and you hold it over the heads of weary travelers....He made a big stink of it and then said, "I will do you a favor. Instead of sending you outside the airport to start over, I will go and take this water bottle and pour out its contents FOR YOU and then I will be back. Now, this is a favor, you do realize".
So we sat in the airport for three hours prior to take off. When it was finally time, it took FOREVER to board and of course, the time I am ready and eager to be the first on the plane, they did not even call "Poor pitiful Moms with young children" like they usually do. We were almost the last people to board. I cannot explain what kind of state George was in. You only know it when you are in it. He was just before meltdown. Like on the line. Like, the toe of his shoe had crossed the line but the rest of his body hung there waiting to follow suit. He never did melt down but he might as well have for all the worry and fear I brought to the table. He squirmed and wriggled, rolled on the floor, picked up snacks from the dirty carpet and ate them, nibbled a pretzel that I paid WAY too much for, watched clips of movies but never a full five minutes in a row and never slept, not a wink. He tested me and tried me but never crossed me. I am grateful for this as I look back. In some ways however, it really did not matter because the ball-o-stress I was at that moment in time was not moved by hope. The ball of stress was motivated by fear. I should have had hope that all would be okay. The attitude of hope would have made my time much more enjoyable at the very least, who knows I could have even had a good conversation with someone while I waited or I could have used the hours in the airport as a time to bond with my son . But no, fear was my companion for travel that day and there was no room for anyone or anything else. We were seated and had a very awkward conversation with a lady on my row because George and I were not seated beside each other (I did choose seats beside each other when I purchased the seats, fyi). Even when we were beside each other there was a tray seat in between us so he was about four feet away from me. At this point, I have to say it was a little nice to have some space, but it was not very conducive to sleep. The in-flight movie was After Earth for this trip. Although George had another double bathroom break at the end of this movie and I never did see if the alien ate Will Smith and his son or not, I did get a valuable lesson from the movie. Will Smith plays a futuristic high power military guy who fights aliens and flies spaceships and such. His son asks him how he "ghosted" for the first time. To "Ghost" is to defeat the enemy by simply not allowing the enemy to detect that you are present, in essence- to "Ghost" means to have no fear. Will Smith answers his son's questions about the first time he "ghosted" with this dialogue:
I was able to see that all my worry and all my fear was pointless. Fear keeps us from so much. I like what he says about fear being a product of our imaginations. Fear is a great tool of the enemy, a powerful and effective tool. As I think about my biggest fears, I am tempted to try to use this "ghost" technique. Who knows what will be changed or what I can accomplish if I give no power to the things I fear most? I want to erase FEAR of the UNKNOWN and base my emotions and actions on HOPE in the WELL KNOWN. Don't be afraid to join me!
Isaiah 41 :10-13
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Love this, Becca!
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