If We Could Live Without Feelings

As I mentioned earlier, it was actually quite relaxing sitting in the airport. We were able to spend some time talking. I was able finish a book. We played some games. We only had to take care of ourselves. But then enter all these feelings. If I could only live without feelings. The feelings of frustration at the blocked goals. Why can't we just get to Oregon? The same blocked goal leading to despair. Confusion -- Did we do the right thing? Should we have turned down the tickets and decided to drive? Should we keep waiting or just go? I felt like my life was up in the air. Wondering if we should give up, but not able to because there was always that hope that kept being rekindled that maybe we would get on the next flight. We laughed at people we overheard commenting on how bad it was for a flight to be delayed an hour and a half.
Then I kept thinking about little Wyatt, and Fawne, and the grief and pain would come, and again discouragement that I could not get out to Oregon for a dear cousin's son's funeral.
And we kept talking about what we should do. First we would decide to wait, then we would decide to rent a car (our truck was unreliable, originally we were going to borrow my mom's car), then we kept thinking about the cost and the time, and we would decide to wait again, then we would decide to drive home, then we talked about driving home and picking up my mom's car and then leaving again. We were crazy and desperate.
Fawne and Ben buried their son while we sat in the airport on Friday. I sat alone in the restroom and cried. I was so helpless to do anything. The demand for tickets was causing the prices to soar. I felt trapped. I felt that money could solve my problems, and I was so discouraged that something that would be so little to someone else was keeping me from going. That we had almost nothing. I had tried so hard and failed.
As Eric likes to say, "God draws a crooked line." I think he heard that somewhere. We thought the goal was to get from point A to point B. God looks at all the space in-between, crooked space. He presses and asks, "Will you choose to be thankful during this?", "Will you be content with where you are in life?", "Will you see that it is better to have Me than to have money?", "Will you believe I can do the impossible?" Perhaps it meant more to Fawne and Ben that we had such a hard time getting out, that we wouldn't give up because they were that important, because Wyatt's life was important. God knows. He grinds off a few more rough edges.