Airports…I’ve been in so many lately and have several more to pass through before I get home. There are so many people there who are walking fast, sleeping on hard chairs, grabbing a quick bite, or avoiding the trams. One thing that everyone is doing is going somewhere. The airport is not a destination.
Can you imagine walking down a corridor in an airport and seeing a guy that is putting down a rug and plugging in a lamp? He has his luggage, but he also has an end table by his chair. He then spots a better view by another window and lugs all of his stuff to a nearby gate and sets his little place up again, complete with a rug, lamp and comfy chair. Absurd, isn’t it?
Don’t we sometimes do that very thing? We set up shop here on earth as if we are going to be here forever. As if, this is it. This life is all there is… So, let’s get comfortable.
I can use a backpack as a pillow in an airport because I won’t be there very long. It’s okay if I have peanut butter and crackers for lunch because I’m headed somewhere else where there is a feast waiting. I can stare at the concrete and walls while I wait because I am going to a place of beauty.
I can do without a lot of things at the airport because I’m just passing through on my way somewhere else.