Not sure

As I sit on United Airlines’ smallest airplane on the planet headed to Connecticut for work, I find myself having mild anxiety. We left late. It’s tiny in here. The run to the next gate feels like a mile ahead. It’s a lot.

I’m not home. I’m away from my wife, my kids, and my desk. I’m packed into a duffle for five days.

You know what I’m also doing … whining. I’m wearing a bracelet that says, “No one cares; work harder.” But I’m not really living it. I’m worried about getting a headache later.

I’m annoyed that this dude in front of me is being a jerk and lying in my lap. He knows the size of the plane.

I should be grateful. This morning’s worship was fantastic. I had the great opportunity to run tracks and MD from the bass. I played as well as I ever have. We played a new song. I worshiped my heart out.

I witnessed people moving toward embracing their spiritual warfare and praying it out. I felt it. I lived it.

But here I am, not sure why I’m so whiny or irritable. This isn’t me.

Perhaps I just need a minute to chill. I need a minute to get off this plane and enjoy some comfort. I need this week to pass so I can get back home to my family.

Maybe I need to pray about spiritual warfare. It sure does seem like this travel day is getting to me in all the worst ways.

I’m going to listen to “Never Finished,” pray and get after it.