Today started with only three hours of sleep. With it being Daylight Savings it was pitch black when I left my humble abode to go to the airport. So, I got a Starbucks and headed on in.
::: big Orbitz gum grin ::: It’s like sunshine in a cup! Fabulous! ::: bing :::
I dropped my car off and got on the shuttle. The shuttle could seat about ten people and several more could stand hanging on to rails. I had never seen more that three or four people on it at a time. But this morning I was the fourth and considered it busy for a Sunday. Just when I thought we were headed to the airport, the shuttle driver got a call that another person was in the lot needing a ride. We made a turn to the right, instead of a left (to leave), and went to pick them up.
There were three people waiting as the big lumbering shuttle came to a halt; two ladies and a man. They had mismatched suitcases but the miscellaneous extra baggage was literally everywhere. Disney bags, knapsacks, boxed leftovers from some restaraunt, full size pillows, jackets, hats, one metal case of “something” and eventually purses. It took them forever to get on the shuttle.
The man looked Native American and frazzled. The two ladies looked like walking blond nightmares. Seriously, they looked like they had just come through a hurricane. They were a complete mess and smelled of cigarettes, leather and alcohol. Their Harley shirts and memorabilia let me know they were in town for the infamous “Bike Week.” One of the ladies sat down and said, “Did daylight savings screw you up too? That’s why were running late! You runnin’ late?” She didn’t look at me during the question or for an answer.
She was either still drunk or Dentyne has a new Bacardi flavor.
The short trip to the airport was filled with the three of them searching for various and sundry items. “Where’s the !$%# tickets?” “I can’t find my phone.” “Did you get everything out of the car?” “Ask the shuttle driver to turn on the lights. Well why won’t she turn on the lights?” “I hate Daylight Savings!” … and on and on.
As we got within view of the terminal I noticed the apparently drunk lady sitting next to me was very quietly crying. The man with them said, “now listen, no matter what happens… don’t freak. We’ll be ok. We’ll get there.”
Silently, she kept on crying and wiping her eyes holding on to a pink string tied bag of blue towels
Today, my thoughts kept going back to the lady. Not in pity or snarkiness. There is a deep sense of sadness for her and I prayed for her comfort. I wonder, when Jesus first saw the woman at the well … I wonder if He had that same sense of sadness? I wonder if He would have said to the crying Biker Blond that instead of a one way ticket back to her normal life that He would give her First Class ticket to Eternal Life?
That she wouldn’t have to worry about keeping a ticket because He would never lose her?
I hated to see her cry and I have a feeling He did too.
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