How fitting it is to fly on 9/11 and not fret. A college professor once told us, “We are immortal until our work is done; I just pray my work is not done yet.”

Speaking of work, John seems to be out of sorts by NOT working for two weeks. He has not taken off this much time since his forced “vacation”/scary hospitalization seven years ago. I told him to smile while standing in our driveway waiting for the Lyft driver this morning. He made a feeble attempt. By the way, that big black and blue bag weighed a half pound over the limit when we checked in at the counter. It must be the hazelnut coffee for  my sister-in-law, Petra! Thankfully, the ticket agent let it slide.

We’re now waiting at the gate two hours early. Between the huge American flag in the security area and the cluster of Marines at our gate, we are reminded again of our freedoms that we never want to take for granted.

And as we travel, I will be taking photos of patterns. The first one, waves in the Denver Airport carpet, reminds me of the recent hurricane-induced storm surges in Florida and Texas. We continue to pray for God’s peace in the midst of turmoil.