Flying Through Life

Flying for me has always been a rite of passage.

I remember when I was maybe 9 taking my first flight with my father and sister, Jasmin, to Disney World.

I remember the first time Jasmin and I flew without Dad, on a flight to reach him in California.

I remember the first time I flew without Jasmin, and suddenly had to be the big kid all by myself.

Then at some point, my father took a second job, with United, largely for the purpose of obtaining flight benefits. Suddenly, he could travel. Suddenly, so could we.

I remember my first time flying standby, without the full assurance I would get on a plane. I remember the first time I stayed overnight in an airport because it didn’t work.

I remember the first time I got bumped, and bumped, and bumped again. Other people would be annoyed, but I had nowhere to be. I used to love spending the day in airports just finding adventure. Denver International Airport had cool architecture and great moving walkways. O’Hare was like a city. JFK had NYC

I remember flying in Tokyo, after overstaying my visa in Bangkok, and realizing I was in trouble.

I remember flying just after my 25th birthday, which was the age at which my benefits expired, and having an uneasy gate agent realize I might not be able to get on the plane (I got on the plane.)

I remember a thousand details about a hundred adventures in flight.

And now I’m taking the flight I don’t want, to go see my Dad who had a stroke last Thursday and is in a tough spot. He's a fighter, but it's definitely a flight.

And because of logistical issues, this flight I’m taking alone. My family will meet me at the airport. My wife and friends will meet me in a few days. Who knows what old friends I will see in the city.

This trip. However, I am taking alone with God

And from the moment I decided to make the trip, I’ve been receiving reminders of my curious relationship with Los Angeles.

It started with the Staten Island barbershop I went to last night, that bypassed the whole Wu Tang catalog to feature nothing but NWA, Dr. Dre and Tupac from 1989-1996.

It continued with the vintage N’Sync tracks this morning at JFK that were ubiquitous the last time I spent a whole summer in L.A. in 1999.

So I’m just sitting and reflecting.

I’m sitting listening to Straight Outta Compton and thinking about how the defiant anger of some guys whose experience I never had got me through high school.

I’m sitting thinking about life choices and wondering what kind of art Easy-E and Tupac might have created had we not lost them so soon.

I’m sitting thinking about how my dad mentored Compton High School students in the ‘90s and wondering how they are doing.

I’m listening to California Knows How to Party and wondering how I turned 50.

But this is life.

I don’t know everything. These days I often feel like I don’t know nearly enough, but of a few things, I am sure.

I know I am an imperfect person, and so are you, and so is everyone we’ve ever admired; that doesn’t mean God can’t use us.

I know that I have inherent worth, and so do you, and so does everyone we’ve ever judged; that doesn’t mean we are not accountable. It means our decisions count.

I know, also, that we’ve all received precious gifts of time, talent, treasure, and truth. We’ve all received gifts of relationship, even with the people who drive us crazy. I know it’s never a bad time to tell someone you love them or forgive them. It’s never a bad time to apologize.

I know that as we build boundaries, and safety in our lives, we still do well to make the visits, and take the calls: it still might be a good idea to carve out time for others that we could just as soon take for ourselves.

I know that a lot of our dinging and vibrating alerts can probably wait. And that we do well to be present.

So today, I pray you show up: for family, for friends, for yourself, and for truth. I oray you give grace to others and grace to yourself.

Life is hard.

Kindness is free.

And Naked juices are 2 for $6 at 7-Eleven.

Have a beautiful, intentional day.

If no-one else has told you they love you today, let me be the first .

Travelling mercies.

I’ll see you on the ground