WaWa.

Those of you not from the NJ/PA area probably have not heard of a small convenience store called "WaWa." In fact, you probably just chuckled when I mentioned the name. Be quiet. Its true. I know the name sounds like something that babies say when they want a drink. But somewhere along the way an ambitious entrepreneur decided he/she would take the name and make a convenience store chain.

Now, for all you haters out there... I will defend the store despite its ridiculous name. And, for those who are not down with Northeast Culture (Josh... yes I named you), this is indeed a culture watch. Last night at 11:30pm a sharp pain arose from my stomach as I hungered for a late night snack. After moments of pondering what I should get a light bulb sprung to life in my head: SOFT PRETZELS! Yes, I love pretzels! And, again if you are not familiar with the northeast, particularly Philadelphia, the BEST soft pretzels are made here. Being based in the general Philadelphia area, WaWa has incredible soft pretzels. So I decided to take a ten minute drive into Red Bank, NJ (taking my life into my own hands) and procure a delicious soft pretzel. And no pretzel would be complete without a solid bottle of Snapple (made from the best stuff on earth). As I walked up to the counter, removed the plastic from my wallet and slid the magnetic strip through the machine, my mouth watered. I could not wait to get that salty, highly carbohydrated goodness into my mouth. I quickly ran to the car, started the engine (to keep me warm), ripped open the bag and savored what I had been anticipating.

WaWa was a huge part of my college career. 2:00 or 3:00am WaWa runs were common at Eastern University in PA and I made my fair share of trips, as evidenced by a slight (hehe) college weight gain. Whatever your feelings on the WaWa name or your experience at the store, I think you have to agree that the pretzels are... "A little slice of heaven." When I get to heaven, I think Jesus will be eating a pretzel from WaWa.

East Coast.

It is 10:00pm on a rainy, cold and uneventful night in the central part of New Jersey. I am sitting at the lone Starbucks in a town of 70,000 people, wearing my NY Yankees beanie and sipping a, currently lukewarm, cup of Salted Caramel Signature Hot Chocolate. I know what you might be thinking right now... doesn't a 27 year old single guy with a gregarious personality and tons of energy have something better to do on a Friday night?? The truth is no. The close friends of my youth have fled to other, more exciting (seemingly), parts of the country. Diners, such as the newly redesigned Middletown Diner, are poised for business but the novelty of the 2:00am diner run fades away in the wake of my late 20s and the lack of companionship. The allure of an empty Starbucks, my Bible and a keyboard is more appealing. Its funny how that works sometimes? As much as I love being around people... sometimes space is required-to reflect on the relationships of the past.

In our current technologically revolutionized world it seems like we are never at a loss for "relationships." Social networking websites like MySpace and Facebook have redefined the way we are "plugged in." People can't go to sleep each day without checking "updated status" reports from their friends. Its funny, I thought that status reports were something Captain Kirk asked for after an attack from a Klingon vessel! Text messaging and mobile phones (notice I used "mobile" because I wanted to sound more British) have truly allowed people to have contact with people "24/7," while at the same time becoming the ultimate poster product of American Individualism. But as a friend of mine is quick to point out... are those really relationships?

This brings me to my "East Coast" title, because when I return to the East Coast I am reminded of the stereotypes: People are rude, overbearing, terrible drivers (my sister almost killed me 5 times while driving home from the airport), impatient, fast paced and work long hours. The cynic would say that the stereotypical East Coaster does not due relationships well. Some work til all hours of the night on Wall Street trying to make a ton of money in order to acquire "happiness." However, those of us who either grew up here or have spent some time know that those on the east coast are some of the most authentic people you will meet. They may "tell you like it is" but they also like to "take it like it is." Some of the most authentic and caring people are my friends from the east coast, who I know will always "have my back" (perhaps even Soprano style). Words from an east coast insider... the rest of the country gives the right coast a bad rap.

It is the relationships I made in New Jersey that brought to life the words of Hebrews 10-12. Church was about "spurring one another" to pursue Jesus and to "never give up meeting together." I've known a few people who deserve to be in the"hall of faith" and I felt like I was surrounded by the "cloud of witnesses." The race that I am now running is because of the relationships and the unbelievable examples of those who invested in me throughout my childhood and adolescent years--those who still love me with the love of Jesus. My friends from the east coast give meaning to the "fierce love" that Jesus has for his children. They may work hard and be rude sometimes, but no one will ever accuse an east coaster of being inauthentic or getting lazy when it comes to running of the race to pursue the "author and perfecter of our faith."

Much like the Yankees never lack in pursuing their free agent prize. Halla back C.C.!

AIRPORT.

I did not get on a plane until I was 19 years old. Those who know me will not be surprised that during the flight from Philadelphia to San Francisco I was like a kind in a candy store. I got to look out the window and see the magnificent rays of the sun like I had never seen them before. As we soared through the black, dreary clouds that covered the Philadelphia Aiport and burst through them to see the sun, it was like being "born again." It was like seeing life with new eyes. As I looked down to the ground below and say the smallness of the streets and the lights of the population centers, I was so excited. I love flying. I love to "experience" new places. The flying experience is especially potent when I get to fly somewhere I have never been before. But even when I fly somewhere I have been, I still get exited. Why is that?

As I sit here in Denver International Airport, I am reminded of the experience every time I get to fly. I love to people watch, and there is not a better place to see lots of interesting people than at the airport. People in an airport have a certain rhythm to their lives. They all have some purpose, some place to go. The question I get to try to answer is, "Where are they going?" Because each person has a story. 

The airport also gives me a purpose. I have a destination, some place I am trying to get to and I am the kind of person who likes to know where he is going. I hate being in limbo and wondering what will come next. BUT! That is the tension. I also enjoy the mystery of the journey. While airline travel does not have a ton of mystery, the unexpected is still possible. For example, my flight was delayed today. I didn't expect that to happen. The weather was beautiful this morning in Denver, but the flight was delayed. The unexpected makes life interesting. I also don't know who I will sit next to on this flight or what the conversation will bring. That is the mystery. 

There is also something about being 35,000 feet over the earth and soaring through the clouds that feels adventurous. It feels exciting. When I look down on the middle of United States each time I take a trip from Denver to New York, I get to see the world's from God's perspective. He cares about each person on this earth and he sees each one of us simultaneously. He knows us very deeply. And, perhaps, that is why the airport is such a good example of the Christian life. As followers of Jesus we all have a destination, eternal life. But we will all meet new and exciting people along the way. We never know who we will meet, some will stay in our lives for a while, others may last a short time, and still others may be out of our sight as quickly as we said hello. The task, the purpose and the excitement of that journey is to live! To live with the purpose of showing the love that my God showed me when he shed his blood on calvary. To live with the intention of caring for people the way our Father cares for us. There is a great opportunity to do that in the airport. 

I love adventure. I love journeys. I love new and exciting things... after all, I hate it when I am missing something. Life is too short. And I think that that is why I love flying. I want to see as much as I possibly can, to live as fully as I possibly can, and impact as many people as I possibly can before my Savior calls me home with him. The airport is a reminder of my mission. The airport is a reminder of why I live.