Posted by C.J.
As I was sitting in Delta’s Crown Room Club in the San Diego airport waiting for my flight to board, two things struck me.
First, for having such a luxurious sounding name and royal looking logo, the Crown Room Club is kind of a dump. It’s nice in that middle-of-the-road business-class hotel lobby-bar kind of way, but it certainly isn’t worthy of its royal name. The clocks that show times around the world are missing labels and the bar is unattended. It’s a dissapointment in the same way that joining a private club always is; reality never measures up to one’s imagination.
Second, I miss having infants in the house. (I know it seems a stretch from complaining about the Crown Room Club to babies, but bear with me.)
In the Crown Room, I sat across from a couple who had an infant with them. The mother held the sleeping baby in her arms as she read a book; the baby’s head was nestled under his mom’s chin as he slept. I have distinct memories of what it feels and smells like to have a baby lying against my chest with it’s head tucked under my chin. It’s clearly branded in my memory like few other experiences.
It’s not that I want to have another child, but there is an intense feeling of peace that comes only with nuzzling one’s own child. Seeing that mom in the Crown Room holding her baby made me realize that I miss that feeling.
God does it right. He allows new parents to be washed over in intense love for their children before presenting them with the ever increasing challenges of parenthood. It’s a foundation builder and prepares us for parenting–a job that stretches beyond anything we could ever imagine.
I’m in Minneapolis now, sitting in the Northwest Airlines World Club. I’m almost home and I miss my kids.
