So. Much. Throw Up.

I think the count is 12 and we are still in the air. We woke up at 4am to get to our 6:50 flight. Andrew woke up exhausted and not in the best of moods. Standing in line to check our bags he says his tummy hurts. I think he’s just hungry but before you know it, vomit is spewing forth all over the floor by the ticket counter line. 1, 2, 3 times… we are trying to catch it, trying to move him to the side and trying to move forward in the line. People are looking on in horror and then proceed to cut in front of us in this very long line. I was honestly thinking it was motion sickness from the car so I thought we were done. While we stood in line at TSA, he looked green. Joy stepped through the metal detector and as I followed and went through, I look back to see him puking 1, 2, 3 times all over the floor. I can’t go back, and Steven is left to handle the aftermath. We shut down 2 TSA lines, left side and right side of this wet floor. Also, since Steven took off his sweatshirt - they made him run it through the scanner. They then let Andrew through but not Steven because “they don’t want him to walk through vomit.” Standing at the metal detector in his socks - they tell Steven to use another line that is still open and the only way there is through the vomit (again in his socks). Steven finally gets through but they end up pulling two of our bags because of our frozen elk meat and my jar of apple sauce, and as we stand there waiting for them to give us the go ahead, he throws up another couple times for good measure (We we’re fortunate this time though- a kind TSA agent gave us a grocery bag. And also hand sanitizer!) We get on the train to get to terminal A - which didn’t help the motion, but we finally make it to our gate. We sit, take a breather and finally get in line for the plane. We got the nazi of Frontier agents so we had to each put our bag in the box to make sure it counted as a personal item. As we were doing that, Andrew throws up some more. I really thought the lady wasn’t going to let us on. But we made it on the plane, sitting down, bag in hand. As we take off, I’m looking out the window at the most beautiful sunset through a dirty airplane window and the Lord reminds me, My mercies are new every morning. Great is my faithfulness. I lay my hands on my son and pray peace and healing over him and then I begin to think back on the faithfulness of the Lord this morning - having a change of clothes for Andrew, the vomit not smelling (due to nothing in his stomach!), the kindest TSA officers I’ve ever encountered giving me plastic bags, sanitizer and an understanding tone, and finally sitting next to a guy in the plane who was so compassionate and understanding. The circumstances didn’t change (he actually threw up a few more times on the plane) but this feels like a holy moment. A moment where Jesus met with me to remind me that he’s bigger and that we are not alone. Thank you Jesus for your new morning mercies.

*Story told with Andrew's permission - and praise the Lord he was completely fine after a full night of sleep!