We’ll tell our stories on these walls
Every year, measure how tall
And just like a work of art
We’ll tell our stories on these walls

With each year, our color fades
Slowly, our paint chips away
But we will find the strength
And the nerve it takes
To repaint and repaint and repaint every day

I’m sitting in SeaTac airport in Seattle watching the rain pour down on cold runways. Weird how just a couple of hours ago I was in sunny California, and now I’m in this beautiful gray.

I have about forty minutes to write, so I’ll make this quick. I have a speaking engagement on Monday night, and my daughter and wife decided to tag along…YAY!  Unfortunately, by the time they decided to come, my earlier flight was way too expensive, so they’re on a later flight. So I’m presently waiting at the airport for them, which is totally fine with me because I’m more than thrilled to have them along.

See, I’ve been traveling alone a lot lately, and every time I step out my front door, bags in hand, I suddenly feel weaker, like Superman without his cape, or Spiderman without his web slinging ability. I know it sounds cliche, but I’m so much stronger when I’m with my wife and kids. And that’s not a bad thing. Not at all. I think it’s the way God’s wired us. To need others. To long for their company. To walk through life hand in hand.

When we rely on one another, we realize that people matter, friends matter, family matters. Then things suddenly become clearer…our purpose, our meaning, our focus.  And the things we thought were so important – like the new book I’m working on and the summer travel schedule I’ve frantically been trying to finalize this week – suddenly seem way less important.

Sure, it would be easier to rely on my family less, to travel without the sting of homesickness, to be strong and independent. But I’m fine with the way it is for now. As my daughter Emma says, “love hurts, but I never want it to go away.”

Anyway, their plane is just about to land, and I’m starting to feel the strength coming back…. ha ha. Gotta go.




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