Airports are interesting places.
As I sit beside my loyal, carved-out Starbucks coffee shop in the Little Rock airport, I am surrounded by people of various sizes, colors and fashion choices. These people have all types of personalities, perspectives and religious beliefs. They are from different parts of the state, country and world, and for a moment they are all together in one building.
Some are enjoying a meal with friends, some sitting at their gates listening to music, and many are on the phone working out business deals and details for their upcoming work venture. My favorite people are the little kids being held close to their parent via leash backpack.
I love airports. They remind me of travels to Central America, Rwanda, Alaska and New England. They remind me how big the world really, how beautifully different we all are, and how we are all created and loved by the same God.
I am surrounded by coffee shops and bookstores carrying a large selection of magazines and newspapers incomparable to the conservative library in my small school’s bookstore — basically heaven on earth. I’m separated from my jobs, my friends, my homework and virtually all that is too-normal and familiar in my burnt out lifestyle. It’s refreshing.
I’m drinking my favorite Starbucks iced coffee, wearing my comfy, vibrant pants and typing away on my computer beside a sunny window with the perfect view of the Little Rock skyline.
We all have our havens. Those places we turn to when we are tired, stressed or just need some time to breath. We all have those places that remind us who we are, what we love, and that we are part of a much bigger world than our hometown or small college campus. A bustling airport just happens to be mine.