I’m vacationing with my sweetheart.
On the plane to Mexico, we were only allowed 40 pounds each. I packed the usual stuff.
- even tennis shoes -incase I decided to suddenly get fit.
Seriously, when the spirit of “get fit” comes over me I don’t want to be in flip flops!
But, hey, that’s not what this blog is about.
It’s about luggage. Invisible luggage. The kind I
- cram between my two ears
- stuff in my heart
- hoard deep down in my soul
every single day.
That’s what I took to Mexico.
Didn’t noticed I packed it until after a relaxing visit to the buffet. I went to use the internet. Because the Wi Fi was down, I couldn’t use my own laptop. So, I waited my turn to go into a room with computers.
A bathing suit clad vacationer occupied each terminal. So, I waited.
After the 30 minute limit, no one left. Finally, the manager of the reception area stepped in and asked people to wrap up their computer time.
Eventually, I took matters into my own not-so-assertive hands.
“Any one about finished?” I asked after I walked back in the room.
“We’ll be another ten minutes,” a woman replied as she eyed the two children beside her. They were facebooking so fast I think half the population flashed across the screen while I stood there.
“I’ve been waiting a while,” I said, anxious to check in on someone back home, “Can someone please let me on?"
It was almost ten p.m. -the cut off time for computers.
The woman shook her scrawny little neck which shook her extremely frizzy hair. (Ok, when I’m angry I’m not exactly complementary. Her hair was just a little out of control. Her neck? Skinny as a pencil.)
“She would have gotten off the computer for someone else, “ I thought all the way back to air-conditioned paradise #6724.
Frankly, I felt like crap. Like something was wrong with me or someone would have let me have a turn.
Shades of grade school, I know. I was sweaty hot. Tired. Did I say hot? Steaming hot in the jungles of Mexico? The weather was practically crawling across my skin.
Then, I teared up. Like I was some kind of emotional side-show.
It scared me. This reaction.
After 10 minutes I walked back. No one was at the computers. When I sat down at one console I looked at the time display.
Not 9:45 or 9:50. I had gotten the time wrong.
As I typed, I wondered if I had something else wrong. Like my perception of myself compared to everyone else. Like my judgment call on the lady that I had spoken with before.
That’s when I noticed the baggage clutched in my hands. A suitcase full lies.
A few minutes ago, I sat in the reception cabana. A brisk breeze off the ocean played across my still sweating skin.
Not so bad today. A little cooler.
The Wi Fi was finally working. I checked an email. It was a letter from a prisoner.
Not surprised. I knew the guy. His name is Paul.
Trust me, if he were still alive I’d would have written him a letter back. His words slapped the unwanted baggage right out of my hands, my mind and soul.
Sure, the letter is ancient. Originally meant for a church in Ephesus. But, the same truth works for me.
“And I pray that you,” he penned, “ being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”
Established in God’s love.
That ‘s what I want to be. Digging down deep into the truth of redemption and forgiveness.
I’m not a quick study but I’m learning.
One day at a time.
The lies have got to go.