Stop Going in Circles

I was supposed to pick up my nephew this morning. I knew the time, the flight number, the airlines. There was one piece of information I didn’t get. Where would I pick him up?

I drove to the airport, giving him plenty of time to deboard the plane, and then head out to the curb to be picked up. Plenty of time. This should have been a no brainer. Pick up the nephew at the airport, how hard could that be? Apparently, it was nearly impossible.

It was all smooth sailing to the airport: no traffic. There was some rain, but that just made the drive more interesting. I made it right to the airport, cruised into the arrivals lane, and easily got into the lane closest to the curb lane. I looked for his airlines-Delta. There it was! I looked around, my nephew is over 6′ 5″, so he’s hard to miss. Driving about 25 mph, I perused the people standing by the curb, who looked anxiously at me like I was their great white hope. No nephew to be seen. Not a problem. I’ll just cruise on around the airport and circle back. He’s probably making his way to the curb right now. Coming back a second time, I glance over at the curbside crowd, looking for the tall kid. Nope. Not there yet. Still not a problem, I’ll just swing around again. There wasn’t much traffic, so this was easy peasy. Third time, I cruise by. I see a tall dark headed person up ahead. As I near him, I realize he clearly isn’t the nephew. This is becoming funny. As I drive past the curbside crowd, like hungry birds who open their mouths when a shadow covers them, these people look at me with great hope and expectation. I apologize in my mind to them. Sorry, I’m not the one.

By the fifth circle, I’m starting to think maybe God has me here for another reason. Maybe I’m supposed to help out another soul, pick them up and bring them home. They all seem so lost, those curbside waiters, as I pass them by. They, looking upon me, desperation in their eyes, pleading, someone pick me up, please.

I cruise around the airport, seven, eight, nine, ten times. Now I’m in a bad mood. He’s not sitting inside the airport is he? He’s not hoping I’m going to go park the car and walk in to get him, is he? I talk out loud to him. I tell him to get his butt outside now! This is getting ridiculous. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen times I’ve circled. It’s almost like I’m taunting the poor people who see me now for the upteenth time and I haven’t stopped yet. Cruel woman, they’re probably thinking. Cruel, mean woman who won’t stop.

Finally, with a huge sigh, I swing over to the cell phone lot. My cell phone has been in my purse behind my seat. I’m a very conscientious driver, but since the accident, I’m even more vigilant. I will not touch my cell phone while I’m driving. I park in the parking lot, just as my phone is ringing. It’s my son. He says the phone at home has been ringing off the hook, aren’t I picking up the nephew? Yes, I say, in an angry tone. I’ve been circling this airport like a mad woman. Where is he? My son says he’s there. He’s been waiting for a long time. Okay, fine. Just then, the nephew calls. He sounds perturbed. I am perturbed. Where the heck is he? He says he’s been sitting there for over an hour and a half. I ask him where? He says outside the airport, at the curb. I ask the golden question, are you outside arrivals? No, he’s been sitting up top at the departure gates. I roll my eyes and try and keep a calm voice. I’ll be right there I tell him.

Sure enough, I drive up to the top, to departures. Sure enough, there’s the nephew, sitting there, at the curb, waiting for me. I stop the car, get out and flag him over. Over he comes. He’s upset with me and I’m upset with him. It will be funny later, but right at this moment, it’s not.

How many times do we spend our Christian lives doing the same things over and over again, hoping this time, is the right time. This time, I’ll finally make the connection. Around and around we go, yet our lives are fruitless, aimless. When we reach that point, stop. Make a change, so you can regroup. Maybe you need more information. Maybe you need more instruction from the Lord. Maybe you need to stop and pray. Maybe you need to stop and read your Bible. Whatever the reason, don’t keep going in circles like me at the airport. Just stop. Change directions.