Finding Jesus When I Travel

I walked into the restroom at a Taco Bell on my way to Washington -- Washington D.C., that is -- and I saw the tile on the floor. Suddenly, I was 14 years old, walking through the Sunday School hallways at my childhood church, and I couldn't help but smile. I glided back to our table in this mysteriously, strange, small town, and I pondered the amazing ability for random smells, sights, tastes, etc, to take you to a place and time so far removed from the present moment.



Traveling is like that too. There is an "other-worldly" feeling that you get when you are neither HERE nor THERE. My mom says that when she is flying between Haiti and the U.S., she takes advantage of that time where she feels no pressure or stress or responsibilities in that moment and she can just be or even read, which she rarely has time to do.

The feeling for me is slightly different. I like feeling that I can be WHOMEVER I want to be in that moment. I feel the release of expectations of being what I need to be or others need me to be. There is such a freedom in feeling "lost on purpose." I think I actually like being "just a face in the crowd".....for JUST a little while.



I think that is why I love airports, subways, train stations, etc. It's funny how much I enjoy being in airports, especially now as an adult, since they have held equal amounts of sadness as they have happiness for me since I have flown anywhere from twice to eight times a year since I was 3 months old, usually always leaving someone that I love behind. But now, I love being in these places, where human emotion is so raw and real, and while we are all strangers passing by on our way to our "lives", we are also connected by these organic, common feelings. Although we are interlopers in each others' worlds, I am reminded every time I am in an airport/crowded city street/train station/public transportation vehicle that we are not SO different. We are just people who feel, who love, who care, who worry, who stress, who dream, who wonder....no matter where we come from, what our background is, or what our stories are.

Ultimately, I think I see a little more of Jesus in these moments in the faces, the heart aches, the loves of each person.

He LOVES them.

Just.

Like.

He.

Loves.

Me.

And I think that is pretty cool. ;)