Whoooa, we’re halfway there

I’m checking in from the Subway in Terminal B at the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport. Our flight from Phoenix was totally full, and it seemed like everyone carried on a full-size suitcase. Seriously, most “carry-on” bags were bigger than the ones we checked. By the time our Group 7 boarded, there was no room in the overhead bins, and our little backpacks had to go under the seat in front of us. It made the flight a bit more cramped than usual.

Folks, if it has wheels, it ain’t a “carry-on.” Pry open your wallet and check the damn thing.

While waiting for our flight, we ran into a priest we know, who, as it turns out, was waiting for the same flight. We chatted for a few minutes. Dallas was apparently his final destination. He was asked to perform a wedding for a couple he knew well.

I’ve often wondered, if an engine were to fail during a flight and we were all nearly certain we’d die, would I want there to be a priest on board? Honestly, I’m torn. For purely selfish reasons, I’d say yes. It may, after all, be my last chance to receive absolution. On the other hand, for more charitable reasons, I’m inclined to say no. The church has a chronic shortage of good priests, and the kind of priest who’d be mindful of saving the souls around him while faced with his own death is probably the kind of priest I’d want living another day to save some more.

Fortunately, priest and laypeople all reached their destination unscathed.

2 thoughts on “Whoooa, we’re halfway there”

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