Skip to main content

Musings in the Arrivals Area

By Belinda

I drove towards Lester B. Pearson airport to meet friends from England, praying my way through the rush hour traffic and potential wrong lane changes.

Overhead in a cloudless blue sky a plane drifted steadily upward, arrow-like, angled toward heaven. Its journey seemed lazily peaceful and solitary in contrast to the busy concrete expressway below.

At the Arrivals area in Terminal 3, I scanned the screen of incoming flights: Amsterdam; Cathay; Helsinki; Montego Bay and Port of Spain--my mind went to those places. I saw that my friends' flight from the less exotic Manchester had landed just 20 minutes earlier. I guessed that it would take them at least another half hour to get through customs, but although I had brought a book to read in case the plane was delayed, there was no way I could focus on reading. What if I missed that moment when the doors parted and they came through, eyes searching the crowd for mine?

The doors opened periodically and burped another small stream of people and we crowd of waiters kept our eyes locked on them. People's pace quickened as they spotted their family or friends and they hurried towards them like homing pigeons, with shining eyes and arms outstretched.

A blonde woman in pink shorts carried a small black dog wearing a rhinestone collar. She let out a shriek of recognition and the group of people with her broke into cheers and clapping as those they were waiting for appeared.

A young girl wandered past me, carrying a single, perfect red rose, and two other people held bouquets of flowers. I imagined how welcomed and honoured the people they were waiting for would feel, like my friend whose husband always greets her at the airport with a dozen red roses.

And I think about Jesus and how he is coming back one day; maybe soon. Will I be waiting with bouquets and clapping hands, my eyes on the skies? That's how I want my heart to be when he comes back.

32-39Remember those early days after you first saw the light? Those were the hard times! Kicked around in public, targets of every kind of abuse—some days it was you, other days your friends. If some friends went to prison, you stuck by them. If some enemies broke in and seized your goods, you let them go with a smile, knowing they couldn't touch your real treasure. Nothing they did bothered you, nothing set you back. So don't throw it all away now. You were sure of yourselves then. It's still a sure thing! But you need to stick it out, staying with God's plan so you'll be there for the promised completion.


   It won't be long now, he's on the way;
      he'll show up most any minute.
   But anyone who is right with me thrives on loyal trust;
      if he cuts and runs, I won't be very happy.
But we're not quitters who lose out. Oh, no! We'll stay with it and survive, trusting all the way. (Hebrews 10:37, The Message)

 9-11These were his last words. As they watched, he was taken up and disappeared in a cloud. They stood there, staring into the empty sky. Suddenly two men appeared—in white robes! They said, "You Galileans!—why do you just stand here looking up at an empty sky? This very Jesus who was taken up from among you to heaven will come as certainly—and mysteriously—as he left." (Acts 1:11, The Message)

Comments

Marilyn Yocum said…
Love this! I will think of it at every airport pickup I do from here on.
Susan said…
I wouldn't be able to read when I was waiting either... Reading this made me think about the other end of the the trip... the departures. Hellos are wonderful things... goodbyes I'm not so good at... People say goodbye in so many different ways, too. I wonder what Jesus' disciples were thinking when he zipped away from them..? Did they wave? Did they call out anything after him? Did they get a sunburn on the roof of their mouth for staring skyward for so long? Were they waiting for him to turn around and come right back? I love that... he "will come as certainly - and as mysteriously - as he left."
Belinda said…
"Sunburn on the roof of their mouth?!" That is such a funny image.

And the thought of the disciples waving and waiting...I loved it.
Julie said…
Oh memories of standing in the old Terminal 1 after watching from the roof my grandparents flight arrive. Then waiting for what seemed like a life time for them to come through those double doors in arrivals. Fond memories.
Belinda said…
Dear Julie,
I so relate. The Arrivals and Departure lounges of airports are fraught with high emotion. Mum and I always smiled so bravely as we said our, "Until we meet again," (we refused to say "goodbye.")and then as I turned to walk away after she had finally gone beyond the range of my vision,my face could hold its composure no longer, and would crumple into a silent, "ugly cry."

Popular posts from this blog

Just Joy!

Our family has a standing date for Sunday dinner on the first Sunday of every month. Not that we don't see each other at any other time, but we all know that particular Sunday is pretty much for sure--and I look forward to it so much--the front door bursting open and our house being filled once more with the voices and vibrancy of six grandchildren and their parents. 

This week Spero, Brenda's new Australian Shepherd puppy came too, and met his extended family, leaving Molson at home to have a rest! He was duly adored by all of us.


He came with a dazzling array of toys and is proving a fast learner, already sitting on command and responding to Tori's training. I was so impressed at her technique of quickly rewarding a turnaround from any slight naughtiness with praise for "good sitting," or "good" any other desirable behaviour! 

Tippy had her hair cut stunningly and bravely short the day before; making a statement about who she is as a unique individual, o…

The Secret Adventures of Susan's Scottish Scarf

By Belinda (with a lot of help from Susan :))
I was saying goodnight to her at the front door this week when she told me. There was apparently more to the scarf around her neck than I knew. 
The scarf had been a gift from me for Susan's birthday on Tuesday December 18th. It had been her 60th; and that day I had treated her to lunch to celebrate. 
We met at a tiny restaurant, Port Soiree, in Schomberg,near her office. It was a restaurant neither of us had been to before and it turned out to be a gem, with artsy ambiance, amazing food, wonderful service and modest pricing. In other words, it was perfect!