We have a flight scheduled for 6:30am Monday. Typhoon Guchol should be right beside Taiwan by then. Perfect.
Please pray with me that this plane gets off the ground on time. Because I am getting on a plane with my three darling, beautiful, excited, wild children to fly 90 minutes to Hong Kong followed by 16 HOURS to New York City. Jason won’t be coming with us. Some excuse about church planting training hosted by Redeemer Church that is some kind of incredible opportunity…blah, blah, blah…but you know he’s also thinking, “Sixteen hours on a plane with three darling, beautiful, WILD children? See ya next month, Babe!”
I mostly feel calm about the entire prospect. I have a direct flight, which means no changes after the long haul over the Pacific. (Anyone that’s done this trip knows that landing in California after a 12-hour flight and realizing you are only half-way there is the worst part of the entire trip.) The kids can’t get lost on the plane, so what else is there to worry about? I’m sure they will be cranky. I’m sure they will cry. I’m sure they will spill something. I’m sure I will not rest the entire time. I’m sure people will be annoyed by us. (Dear people who get annoyed by children on planes…families need to fly, too!) But I’ve had so many bad experiences flying before that I just can’t be bothered to worry about it.
However, a flight delay or *gasp* cancellation may just put me over the edge.
This is the first time I’ve gone home for a visit in three years. Three years is a long, long, long time.
We are beyond excited. Ellie asks every day, many times a day, if we can pack her suitcase. It is all we talk about. So Typhoon Guchol, please go away. We have a very important plane to catch.