Airports present a wide array of emotions for me. I’m always nervous going through the TSA scanners. I panic as I wonder if I left a pocket knife, 2 oz bottle of travel shampoo, or radioactive device in my carry-on. There is frustration over the price of food, delayed flights, and by some people’s total lack of decency as they pursue their itinerary with little regard for those traveling around them. There is of course the excitement. Airports always represent a change from one place to another (unless of course you’re Tom Hanks in the Terminal). You’re going someplace. Whether it’s near or far, new or old, or even home, it’s exciting.
Today, as I am sitting in Denver Int’l airport for a connecting flight to Alaska, I’m experiencing a somewhat unexpected emotion, sadness. I’m about to board a plane that will take me to “The Last Frontier” for a summer on bikes, kayaks, rafts, and sleds (pulled by dogs). And yes, I’m sad. Not about the Alaska part, but about leaving Salt Lake City.
Whenever you travel to a new place, you leave another place behind.
Sometimes it’s easy. As good as my quesadilla and margarita were in the airport today, it won’t be too much of a cry-fest to board my plane and leave Denver. Home isn’t terrible for me to leave, either. Whether it’s a week or a couple months, I always know I’ll be back. But leaving Salt Lake City was hard today. No, I’m not going to miss the city. I am, however, going to miss the twenty other people that I shared the last two weeks with.
I didn’t expect to come away with anything more than facebook friends when I came to Backroads training. I knew that most, if not all, of the people I would be training with wouldn’t share my Christian convictions. I expected that my beliefs might even offend or upset other people. Quite frankly, I thought I would shut down socially or be shut out.
Coming out of seminary and vocational ministry, 95% of the people I interacted with over the last several years shared my beliefs. Almost all of my deep friendships and regular relationships are with others who are intentional about their Christian faith. In Backroads, my guess is that less than 5% of the company employees share my convictions. 95% or more do not.
My expectation was that shared belief or interest equates to friendship and community. In order to have positive interaction we need to be on the same page. Because my beliefs would be more in the minority (and the fact that Christianity can be seen as rigid and exclusive), I didn’t anticipate people accepting me easily.
I was wrong.
After two weeks of training and communal living, I have walked away with new friends.
I did not expect to board a plane to Alaska wishing training could have gone longer. I did not expect my excitement for Alaska to be overwhelmed by sadness for leaving these new friends.
All that to say, I’m sad. I’m going to miss the friendships that were formed, the moments that were shared, and the stories that were intertwined. I’m going to strive to maintain these new friendships amidst a summer of meeting new people weekly. But most of all, I’m going to be thankful that God works despite my naive expectations.
Grace and Peace.
Today, as I am sitting in Denver Int’l airport for a connecting flight to Alaska, I’m experiencing a somewhat unexpected emotion, sadness. I’m about to board a plane that will take me to “The Last Frontier” for a summer on bikes, kayaks, rafts, and sleds (pulled by dogs). And yes, I’m sad. Not about the Alaska part, but about leaving Salt Lake City.
Whenever you travel to a new place, you leave another place behind.
Sometimes it’s easy. As good as my quesadilla and margarita were in the airport today, it won’t be too much of a cry-fest to board my plane and leave Denver. Home isn’t terrible for me to leave, either. Whether it’s a week or a couple months, I always know I’ll be back. But leaving Salt Lake City was hard today. No, I’m not going to miss the city. I am, however, going to miss the twenty other people that I shared the last two weeks with.
I didn’t expect to come away with anything more than facebook friends when I came to Backroads training. I knew that most, if not all, of the people I would be training with wouldn’t share my Christian convictions. I expected that my beliefs might even offend or upset other people. Quite frankly, I thought I would shut down socially or be shut out.
Coming out of seminary and vocational ministry, 95% of the people I interacted with over the last several years shared my beliefs. Almost all of my deep friendships and regular relationships are with others who are intentional about their Christian faith. In Backroads, my guess is that less than 5% of the company employees share my convictions. 95% or more do not.
My expectation was that shared belief or interest equates to friendship and community. In order to have positive interaction we need to be on the same page. Because my beliefs would be more in the minority (and the fact that Christianity can be seen as rigid and exclusive), I didn’t anticipate people accepting me easily.
I was wrong.
After two weeks of training and communal living, I have walked away with new friends.
I did not expect to board a plane to Alaska wishing training could have gone longer. I did not expect my excitement for Alaska to be overwhelmed by sadness for leaving these new friends.
All that to say, I’m sad. I’m going to miss the friendships that were formed, the moments that were shared, and the stories that were intertwined. I’m going to strive to maintain these new friendships amidst a summer of meeting new people weekly. But most of all, I’m going to be thankful that God works despite my naive expectations.
Grace and Peace.
