Baggage Claim

He leaned against the square pillar and rubbed his eyes. “This is ridiculous,” he mumbled, a little bit louder than he had intended. He watched as the remaining passengers started to file toward the Customer Service booth off to the side of the carousel. “Never fails.”

Instead of adding himself as one more frantic and frustrated customer to the already zealous crowd he decided to check the other carousels to see if it was misplaced.

He walked down the wide corridor – which was far too busy for 3:47 AM – and yawned as he watched the other sleepy passengers as they shoved past each other to check the tags on the generic black fabric suitcase before it started its slow journey around the room.

When he reached the last conveyer – which was empty and surrounded by tired, grumpy people - he stretched his arms and stopped to get a drink from the water fountain. He watched the agitated businessmen and the sleeping 2-year-old twins and the confused Korean tourists as they all waited for the lights to flash and the alarm to sound in order to announce the coming of their luggage. He shook his head. He knew it was only a matter of time before they had to add themselves to the ever-growing line in front of the little old lady at the Customer Service booth.

A young woman and her son were trying to guess which bags belonged to which passengers. “Who do you think has that big green one?” or “There’s one with a purple ribbon on it. Who do you see that you think likes purple the most?”

He was impressed with how well the game held the little boy’s attention. “I wish that would entertain me.” He looked across the faces of the people hovering in a clump around the luggage chute and tried to decipher which one he thought liked purple the most. He sighed, realizing that not only did he have no clue, but he really was completely uninterested. All he wanted was his own bag.

“I just want to go home” he thought. “Could this have happened at a worst time?”

He switched his backpack to his other shoulder and turned back toward Carousel 4, hoping maybe, just maybe, it had come out later than all the rest. He could see from a distance that his hopes would be fruitless, so begrudgingly he headed toward the long line of disgruntled customers.

“Welcome home, Son.”

He hadn’t even stopped walking before his eyes started to get blurry. He turned to see his father’s strong eyes, still as piercing as ever but also brimming with tears. “It’s good to have you back.”

He lowered his backpack to his feet and shook his father’s sturdy hand, then they gave each other a hard hug, a strong hug, an I-can’t-believe-I-get-to-see-you-again hug.

“You ready?”

Everything in him wanted to just get in the car and drive off and worry about the bag tomorrow, but he knew once he was home it would be a horridly long drive back to the airport to come and claim it.

“Do you mind waiting? They lost my bag.”
“Oh, did you have more than just the one?”

He looked down to see that on the ground about five feet away was his brown hard shell thrift store suitcase with a bumper sticker collage covering one side of it.

“You had it?”
“I was waitin’ for you and I saw it come out, so I grabbed it.”
“How’d you know it was mine?”
“Son. I was with you when you got it.” He smiled a gentle smile. “Although you have added quite a few things to it since then. I don’t even know what most of these mean.”

He reshouldered his backpack and leaned over to pick up his suitcase, but his dad’s hand reached it first.

“I’ve got it, Son. The car’s this way.”
“Dad, I can carry it. A wheel’s broken so it doesn’t roll.”

He’d seen that look in his dad’s eyes before and he knew it wouldn’t accomplish much to argue with him (especially as tired as he was), so he decided to negotiate.

“Here, why don’t you carry my backpack?”
“Sure, yeah, I can do that.”

He stiffly stooped down to set the suitcase back on the floor and then threaded his arms through the straps of the backpack while his son held it up for him. “Doesn’t this thing fall off o’ you? How do I tighten these things?” and he started tugging at the plastic buckles. His son showed him how to pull the straps tighter so that his gray-haired old man looked more like a kindergartner on the first day of school. His father reached down and again picked up the suitcase.

“Dad!” He quickly grabbed the handle of his suitcase to pull it from his father’s hands.
“Son,” the older man whispered back. He paused and looked into his father’s eyes which were again getting misty. “Son, I just wanted you to come back safe. You’re here, and I just want to get you home.”

The sincerity that he saw in his father’s demeanor made him wrestle with himself, and in the end he conceded. He willed himself to pry open his fingers that were wrapped tightly around the broken black handle. Unable to think of anything to say, he awkwardly whispered back, “Thank you.”
His father grinned and patted his son on the back. “Now, let’s getcha home.”


-------------
Me: “How did you know which one was mine?”
My Father: “I was there when you got it…but you really made it your own, didn’t you?”

Me: “It’s too heavy for you.”
My Father: “You sure did pack it full, but I want to carry it for you.”

Me: “Why don’t you just carry the little one, I’ll take care of the big one?”
My Father: “Why don’t you just let me love you this way?”

Me: “You don’t have to.”
My Father: “I’m so glad you’re here. Let’s getcha home.”

Praise be to the LORD, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens.
~Psalm 68:19

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The following is a registered trademark...only it hasn't been registered yet and the trademark doesn't exist.

I work as the Assitant for Business Development at an insurance company - Santa Fe Auto Insurance, to be exact. Were you to look at my contact list with the extension numbers for important people within the company you would most likely notice the same thing I noticed shortly after my tenure here began, although I didn't think to question it until much later. There are an inordinate number of Maxwells that work at this company. Now, I know it's not exactly an uncommon last name, but to have 4 Maxwells at a small auto insurance company?

I have since learned that the president of the company, Mr. Doug Maxwell, is the big brother or the web developer guy, John Maxwell, who are both related in some capacity to Jim Maxwell (also titled as "management"). I am yet to figure out where Max Maxwell fits in, but the IT supervisor is Greg Steible who is married to a formerly-Ms.-Maxwell.

This family run business (as it turns out) has gotten my little wheels a-crankin'. How would a Wauer-run family business be set-up? Who would be in which positions? What would we sell? This was the result of dinner conversation in the Hoff household (*note: because of limited employees, some may hold various positions until the decision is made to add more team members):

Company Name: Mommen Candies, Inc.
Specialization: Lollipops
Slogan: "Mommen Pops: for serious suckers only"
Chief Executive Officer (CEO): George Wauer
Chief Operating Officer (COO): Sarah St. Andre
Head of HR: Jennifer Wauer
Information Technology Supervisor: Steve Teske
Web Design: Jason Wauer
Tech Support: Rebekah Teske
Demographics and Field research: Beverly Wauer, Nathan Hoff
PR/Sales: Trinh Wauer, Jason Wauer, Ben Wauer, Ashleigh Henry Wauer, Brian St. Andre
Marketing and Promotions: Erin Teske, Abby Hoff
Advertisement: Ellie Teske, Eben Wauer, Moriah Wauer, Anna Teske, Magen Wauer, Abram Wauer
Customer Service: Beverly Wauer, Jennifer Wauer, Nathan Hoff
Maintenance: Dustin Wauer

Although this company does not exist (sadly...be honest, don't you want a lollipop right now?) it did help me to realize something that's so simple yet so profound: everybody has a place. There wasn't one person in my seemingly oversized family that I thought, "and they could...be...something...um...having to do with...sitting." Everybody has a role, everybody has a function, everybody contributes. It wasn't whether they had a part to play (in my mind, of course), but it was am I willing to think about what their part might be.

I think a lot of times we look around and say, "I don't know what I can contribute here," or even worse "I don't really see what they bring to the table." It's not a matter of "if", it's a matter of "what".

We have different gifts according to the grace given us. If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully.
~Romans 12:6-8

What part do you play? What part has been given to those around you? What are you going to do about it?

I, for one, am going to tell my mom she'd be a great lollipop researcher.

Roll Out

Whenever celebrities head to a premiere, they know that their eyes and smiles will be greeted with bright flashes of light while their shoes are warmly welcomed by plush red velvet. Royals experience the same sort of privileged treatment. It is not because their feet are any more sensitive than "normal" people's, but instead it is to show them the honor the world has deemed they deserve. For any special person on any special occasion, the red carpet is rolled out to declare "This honor is reserved only for those who are highly esteemed. Here walks one who is worthy of walking here."

Even before one celebrity or one royal sets foot on that carpet, onlookers know that that area has been designated for a special purpose. The area outside of the gala has been unmistakeably reserved, and all people can do is wait with bated breath to catch a glimpse of one who is worthy to set foot on the red carpet. The path has been laid, the crowd has been made ready, the way has been prepared, and all that is left to happen is that the honorable guest make an appearance.

They brought the donkey and the colt, placed their cloaks on them, and Jesus sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted,
"Hosanna to the Son of David!"
"Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"
"Hosanna in the highest!"
~Matthew 21:7-9

They didn't roll out a red carpet, but the people in that crowd laid down their own clothing to prepare the way for their Savior. They set out a path before him so that all would know that "This honor is reserved only for those who are highly esteemed. Here walks one who is worthy of walking here." Everyone knew that, for someone to walk on the road of cloaks that person must truly be honored. The crowd waited with bated breath to catch a glimpse of the one they had heard so much about and had hoped would come one day.

I have heard of your fame! we shout. King of kings and Lord of lords! He's coming back, and we go before him like John the Baptist who cried out Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him!

What kind of welcome will Christ get when He makes His appearance? Will the crowds be waiting with bated breath because they see the preparations that have been made for His return? Will they wait expectantly, seeing the things that have been specially set apart, knowing that "This honor is reserved only for those who are highly esteemed. Here walks one who is worthy of walking here"? We're here to roll out the carpet, to lay down our coats, to shout Hosanna and to announce the coming of one who is worthy.

What are we doing to prepare the way?

un-

Have you ever played The Ungame? The rules are simple: move your piece around the board and answer the questions you land on. There are no "go to jails", no "sorrys", no "lose a turns". In fact, it's quite the opposite. The Ungame questions were designed to be the antithesis of the "gaming" mindset (competition, speed, strategy...). Instead it asks questions like "What are the four most important things in your life," and "what do you think life will be like in 100 years?" The Ungame was designed to work against life philosophies propegated by other games that only lead one to bludgeon the enemy to a proverbial pulp.

Because of the design and intent of The Ungame the creators aptly named their masterpiece "The Ungame" and not "The Nongame". You see, there are many things that are not games (petting your dog, painting your bathroom, cooking your dinner), but the fact that they are non-games doesn't make them un-games. In order for something to adequately be described as an un-game, it must actively and intentionally work against everything that is a game. The Ungame is not a non-game; it's an un-game, un-gaming its participants in the process of play from gamers to un-gamers.

There are times when un simply means not, but often it implies intentional and direct counteraction. For example:

do - undo.
wanted - unwanted.
intelligent - unintelligent.
learn - unlearn.
enjoyable - unenjoyable

God's love, which is described as unfailing 32 times in the Old Testament, does not simply not fail, but it unfails. It cannot fail because it is too busy successfully loving us. Just like The Ungame is an ungame because it is actively working against that which makes something a game, so too God's love is unfailing because it's working against failure.

God's love cannot fail. God's love is reliable. God's love is unfailing.

16 No king is saved by the size of his army;
no warrior escapes by his great strength.
17 A horse is a vain hope for deliverance;
despite all its great strength it cannot save.
18 But the eyes of the LORD are on those who fear him,
on those whose hope is in his unfailing love,
19 to deliver them from death
and keep them alive in famine.
20 We wait in hope for the LORD;
he is our help and our shield.
21 In him our hearts rejoice,
for we trust in his holy name.
22 May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD,
even as we put our hope in you.
~Psalm 33:16-22

Armies fail. Our strength fails. Horses fail because their strength fails. God's love unfails. His unfailing love rests upon us, and it is the only thing in which we can legitimately place our hope.

Thank God not just for his nonfailing love, but for His unfailing love.