Loving people

I picked one of my brothers up from the airport last night from Seatac, and let me tell you, I can hardly even describe my emotions! First, I am just so thankful, SO thankful, that he is safe and home now. All glory to God.

Thinking that traffic would be horrible, I left about an hour and 15 minutes early, in order to make it to Seatac on time. However, I was wrong. I made it in the usual 30 minutes. The cell phone waiting lot was full, so I (along with about 50 others) parked illegally along the side of the road. That is, until a cop car showed up behind us and inched forward with a loudspeaker kindly telling everyone NOT to park there. So I drove ahead and found a parking lot (not to be used for waiting either). And I waited for my brother.

He called, I hung up the phone, and drove to arrivals. "Where are you?" I asked him on the phone again--oops, wrong level.

Finally, I see him walk out from the double doors, tall and handsome, short cropped hair!

I'm not joking, he is so excited to be home. I don't think I've ever seen him more excited about anything. We get in the car after giving him a hug and putting his duffel in the backseat. His legs are going, he keeps repeating, "yeah, I'm pretty pumped" and I can't stop smiling! He had to wake up at 3:45am, after going to bed at 2:15am, in order to get his room ready and make it to the airport. During the drive home, we listened to Bush, FooFighters, and Michael Jackson. During Michael's "Beat It" we're both singing loud until all of a sudden my brother's voice fades out and I look over. He's sleeping with his mouth hanging open. I look over 5 minutes later, his head is now hanging in front of him; he's asleep. Smiling, I turn down the music and just thank the Lord for my family, and pray that we make it home safe. We did. I love them.