Unwrapped :: When One Shines Brighter

One hour delay.

 I indulge in a two-second inward groan before I turn to Arno and say, "I saw a food court around the corner. Want to go see if anything is open?"

We find a Dunkin Donuts still alive and kicking and order "The Ravens" donuts and smoked sausage sandwiches. Arno jokes with the twenty-year-old server and asks him what his dream is. I love watching my man in his element, how he pulls the potential out of those to whom he speaks. It is really beautiful.

We settle down in the awkward airport chairs to await the arrival of my missionary parents, enjoying our midnight feast. I love moments where we can connect one-on-one when we did not expect to, talking about random topics and making up stories about the people meandering by.

Time ticks by and my attempt-at-subdued excitement finds me up every twenty minutes to see if the flight is still on time until finally the words LANDED greet my eager eyes.

We walk over to security to stand with the throng of waiting family and friends also not-so-calmly-on-the-inside longing for a glimpse of their special someone.

Passengers trickle around the corner from the secret passageway where things like boarding and deplaning happen. I watch the expectancy on the faces around me and then the disappointment when their special someone is not in the current throng making its way down the corridor.

Until suddenly, "Beth!" a woman screams as she runs into the arms of her friend or sister, telling someone lurking close by how they have not seen each other for six months.

I smile at the sight. My heart knows that feeling.

Two girls stand with their father. One is about six and the other ten. Expectancy written all over their faces, looking like they would burst from the sheer anticipation looming at the end of the tunnel.

"ME-HA!!" they squeal with absolute delight as they run down the hallway to hug their grandmother.

A lump forms in my throat as I try to decide who is happier: the kids or the "me-ha." I remember that moment when I was a little girl. Some of my favorite memories wrapped up in airport reunions.

Finally, I see them.

MY people.
The two white-headed dreamers,
Home for Christmas,
From their ongoing forty year journey to the island of Haiti.
In that instant, theirs are the only faces that I see.
My heart is filled with joy.

I think back to that moment and smile at how in a swarm of people, the ones we love shines brighter than all the rest. My theatrical mind can hear the musical score and see the lighting effects fading everything else into the background. I feel swept up in the beauty of that space and time.

I am in awe of the awareness inside of me that God delights in me with that same focus.
That same intensity.
That same squeal of expectation.

He SEES me.

And...
...He sees you too.

Signs. Balloons. Screams. Ecstasy.
You were born for this relationship.
To be captivated in that movie moment by the One who loves you more than life itself.

Every time we come back home to His heart.



Linking up with Tuesdays Unwrapped, Imperfect Prose, and Thought-Provoking Thursday.