Is there a more life-sapping duty than waiting at the baggage carousal at the end of a flight? After spending an hour, five hours or (gulp) 12 hours in the pressurised cabin of a busy plane, with little room for manoeuvre and slim enjoyment by way of food, the last thing anyone wants is to collectively gather around a tediously slow conveyer built waiting for luggage to arrive.
I was in this situation a couple of weeks ago. I’d just arrived in Edinburgh from Bristol and it was approaching 11pm. In front of me was someone who clearly hadn’t read the script for these situations. She was excited and energetic, seemingly enjoying the delights of carousel number 10.
She was around 5 years old.
As one large yellow and grey rucksack emerged, the little girl jumped on it, dragged it off the carousel and just about carried it to her parents, almost crashing into me in the process. But there was a problem. “No darling!” a lady with a Scottish accent hurriedly said as she rushed towards her daughter. “That’s not our bag — that’s someone else’s!”
Those of us who had front-row seats to this adorable little drama raised weary but hearty smiles as the bag was returned to carousel. It was a heartwarming and welcome interlude from the draining wait for luggage.
It’s a story that still lingers in my head. Waiting is a mainstay of life. Beyond the nuisance of waiting for luggage, there is the waiting for a spouse, a new job, a house, or whatever. The desires that fuel our waiting can be so much that we jump on the first hint at an answer to our longing, convinced it is our time. But this isn’t always the case. A closer look may reveal that what we hoped was the answer is not quite right for us. Not this time.
This happened some years ago. A job came up that looked perfect. I applied but on hitting send an overwhelming sense of uncertainty came over me. I prayed it away, convinced the feeling was nerves and certainly not of God. But it didn’t work, the unease persisted, and so I withdrew the application and peace returned. It may sound super-spiritual (I wish that was the case because that’s easy to ignore!) but it was the right decision, something I believe has been confirmed in the years since.
The little girl from carousel number 10 is a personal reminder to me to not jump on the first hint of my desires being fulfilled. It pays to have a little look at the approaching luggage before wheeling it away to see if our name is written on it. And if it isn’t our luggage, hopefully what’s rightfully ours won’t be too far behind…