Deja Vu
Last weekend I felt like I fell into the Tom Hank’s movie, ‘Terminal’. Flying home from Puerto Rico we had a little connection in Newark. No big deal- we thought. Now after 2 airlines, 2 hotels, 3 bumps, 1 bump up, and 3 days we arrived home.
Kathy, the gate attendant for Northwest Air was fabulous. She managed to arrange 6 free tickets for us, endless food coupons and First Class tickets home. She has officially announced my new name is: ‘John Windfall’. I look forward to seeing her the next time we get routed through Newark.
Usually I just go through airports. They are an unpleasant but necessary part of our travel scenarios. It is easy to focus on the ‘getting there’ and miss a marvelous slice of life. Now after about three days in one airport I have a new perspective.
First of all, look at the people: (mostly invisible). Some of our new friends include:
1. Rita, who gives chair massages at the airport spa. I may never be able to stand again after what felt like a truck backing over me. I was even able to practice my new Spanish skills as I cried for mercy, “No mas!”.
2. John and Heather who were desperate to get a seat back home, (we gave them ours.)
3. Jim the Medtronic Executive who was a member of two churches that I served. He is having shoulder surgery this week so pray for him.
4. Of course I won’t forget the godfather of the Russian mob who was holding court in the Wyndam dining room day and night. His wife came for dinner dressed like old world royalty. Lots of respect was shown by diners at the every table.
5. I can’t leave out Ellen the soon to retire flight attendant that traveled with us from the hotel elevator, lobby bus, train, terminal shuttle, and there she was welcoming us onto the plane.
The world (and the airport) is filled with interesting people if we take the time to notice. I guess it’s true about the journey being as important as the getting there.
I wish you all an adventurous journey, with real folks along the way.
Full Circle
Thirty Two years ago on Good Friday, I preached my first sermon. It was in the chapel at First Presbyterian Church in San Diego. My Mom said, “you did good.” Whether or not it was ‘good’ didn’t really matter- she was proud of me and that meant a lot.
This year on Good Friday I was back in the chapel at old First Pres. in San Diego. This time I stood in that same pulpit and said goodbye to Laurel Westfall – my Mom.
Isn’t it strange that after speaking at hundreds of memorial services and funerals for these thirty two years, now it’s personal?
Mom was a unique, unrepeatable miracle from God. Born in Texas from a long line of Texans, she grew up in Los Angeles where her father ran Hollywood Park Racetrack. She never missed opening day at the races and even got to go to the Kentucky Derby a few years ago.
She liked to tell about Walt Disney coming to the house with toys for the children. (We thought he went to everyone’s home.) She loved to dance and was a great traveler. She was strong enough to take us four kids to live in the jungles of Africa as missionaries and she had an unwavering faith in the Lord throughout the twists and turns of life.
Independence was so important that sometimes it seemed as if she had raised four ‘only children’ in the same family. We were each quite different which was fine with Mom.
Generous isn’t strong enough of a word. Whatever she had could just as well be given to someone else (friend or stranger.) I’ve seen her give necklaces to people who happened to mention that they liked the one she was wearing at the time. Our friends, Randy and Nancy Rowland found this out when they stayed overnight with my folks. Mom gave Randy a robe to wear, and he mentioned what a nice robe it was. Without a word, Mom drove over to Nordstrom and in the morning presented them each with a new robe.
I am probably the man I am today because of her love, faith and character. So, standing in the pulpit of the First Presbyterian chapel, I couldn’t help but be grateful and think, “Mom, you did good!”
