Sprinting Barefoot through an Airport

My angels are sound asleep in the next room. They are finally here – at my place in Nashville. It is surreal and yet feels normal, like they have been here forever. The only sounds other than my fingertips striking these keys are their breathing and the low hum of the air conditioner. This is serenity.

But the day certainly didn’t start like this.

The day started late last night/early this morning when I could not even string together 3 solid hours of sleep. My head (and heart) would just not shut down and I finally rolled out of bed around 4:50 am. I quickly got ready and called an Uber to the airport. The drive was quick and easy but the second I walked into the doors of BNA that all changed real fast.

The line to security was as long as I have ever seen it and about halfway through the line I realized my flight was 30 minutes earlier than I previously thought! I wanted to cut in line so badly but I’m not sure if it was pride or humility but I stuck it out. I stuck it out in that line and nearly risked missing the flight to Denver to pick up my girls. I prayed a lot in that line. Mainly I prayed that God would give me peace because rage wanted a piece of the action in the worst way. I prayed for patience when a girl cut in line in front of me because she too was panicking and proclaimed to everyone that her boyfriend was pitching in a major league baseball game that afternoon.

“Big whoop. Try not seeing your daughters for 2 1/2 months!” – I wanted to say

I prayed that God would help me show the actions of love to the other girls that cut in line with basically no regard to anyone (like me) who needed to get through that line in a hurry.

But let me tell you the second I cleared security and I realized that there was still a chance to make that flight, I took off! Holding my sandals in one hand and gripping my backpack tightly I ran as fast as my 35 year old legs would carry me. I probably passed 50 people that were in front of me in that security line (including the special young ladies I mentioned earlier who were also running). I ran so fast I nearly flew by the gate. I think I nearly flew by it because it was completely empty.

“Is there still time?”

“There are only middle seats available and you will probably have to put your bag underneath your seat.”

I had never been so happy to have a middle seat on a plane in all my life. I didn’t care if they put me in the cargo hold – I just wanted on that plane. I was literally the last person to board. 5 minutes later the doors shut and we headed down the runway.

When I arrived at DIA my day suddenly slowed down. I had time to kill – like 6 hours of it! I limped around the airport looking for a place that served breakfast laughing to myself what had just transpired back in Nashville. I realized though that I was still very uneasy and my lust saw its chance to pounce. I spent most of the time doing the only thing I know to do when lust starts to bear down.

I surrendered. I prayed, made phone calls and prayed some more.

It is a miracle that I will never be able to explain when I call my sponsor and tell him what I am going through. If I am honest with my feelings and connect with another sexaholic then lust loses its power. It’s pretty incredible the immediate impact reaching out will have on my sobriety. Connection truly is the key – to God and to others.

So I am very happy to say that by the time my ex-wife drove up with the girls I was ready. I was ready to feel all of the emotion of seeing them again. I was ready to be Dad. I was ready to love and be loved. We had an amazing flight back to Nashville. We snuggled, laughed, ate snacks, played goofy games. The 2 1/2 hours flew by and as I was walking off the plane a lady mentioned to me how impressed she was that the girls were so upbeat the whole flight with not a single meltdown. I simply said, “We don’t get to see each other that often so what you witnessed was a celebration. Plus they are very seasoned travelers.”

We were greeted at the airport by my mom, sister and brother. They helped with the bags and we all went to our first dinner of the girl’s Tennessee summer: Waffle House.

I know that soon I will be blogging about saying goodbye and that the time was too short. But right now I will live in the moment and at the moment I am so grateful that two of my main motivations for staying sober are dreaming peacefully a few feet away.

BrokenYetRedeemed

 

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