Judging by my last two trips through Chicago O’Hare, or as I like to call it, Hell: for future reference, I guess I should just factor in the cost of a hotel and rental car, as well as an additional 7 hr drive (not to mention the extra 2.5 hrs sitting needlessly on the Tarmac before cancelling the flight at 1:00 am, all the while being scolded by the flight attendant who continually insisted that I keep my one-year old–who was then on his third airplane in the last 12, 13, I don’t know 15 hours(?)–in my lap, because it’s dangerous…because there’s lightning outside…).

Or so went the thoughts I was mulling over in my head last night as I lay in our hotel bed, fuming. And then an unsolicited memory came to mind: the testimony of a Syrian family who stayed with a family in our church, the image of the father of that family having to shield his children’s eyes from the bodies lying all over the place as they aimlessly ran from snipers at the border, of the same father having to throw his children over a fence just hoping they wouldn’t get shot midair, of the same father who upon my welcoming to America said, “We love America!” 

And so I rolled over and with utter insincerity to how I felt, but utter sincerity to what I knew to be true, made my last comment to Keldy on the situation before going to sleep: “We still have so much to be thankful for.” 

#perspective #butistillhateairports #especiallyohare/ell