We hit an especially rough patch between Nashville and Kansas City. And my kids just laughed. And said, "Tickle. Tickle. Tickle." over and over between giggles.
No fear.
They think they're flight experts because this isn't their first time in the air. Cate flew across the world, literally, for the first time when she was 2 years and 3 months old. It took us 23 1/2 hours from first gate to our destination gate in New Zealand and we lost almost a whole day in time changes.
Her second time was a shorter trip, but most would be compared to flying to a country that is 17 hours ahead of us. She was 4 years and 4 months old this more recent time and had a 22-month-old brother along for the ride.
Would you believe this photo isn't staged? Seriously. My kids are funny. |
And now my boy Ben is 2 years and 3 months -- the same age as Cate's first flight -- and he's got two air trips under his belt ... er ... elastic diaper band. Granted, his first one was in the United States.
I took four airplane trips before I married Greg when I was 23 {and three months, to the day ...}. Add six more in the past nine-plus years. I think my kids will have me beat.
And not just in airline miles.
They giggle because they have no fear. I'm not afraid of flying, but I certainly resist letting go and truly living in the moment. They consider the ride an adventure. Sure, they're excited about the destination that includes an aunt and uncle and a trip to the zoo. But getting there is part of the fun.
They're kids. And their faith is just like Jesus encourages ours to be. Simple. Pure. Without hesitation.
And they invite the people around them in to their joy. The guy behind us said, "They thought that turbulence was a roller coaster." As she was exiting, a woman said, "They were so good." And another guy near us kept glancing back and grinning.
Those people wanted what my kids have. I want what they have too. Pure, abundant joy with no worries weighing them down.
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