Yesterday our work trip team travelled by plane to Denver. Kids arrived at LAX at 5:30 am and spent the day comporting themselves like champs. Flight? Champs. Bus ride? Champs. Walk into downtown? Champs. Project orientation? Champs. Bedtime? Well, you can’t win ’em all.
I have been insisting for three months that nobody check a bag on our flight, an insistence almost completely honored by youth and adult leaders who crammed six days worth of clothes, a sleeping bag, pillow, mat, and toiletries into carry-on bags and backpacks. I desperately wanted to avoid checking on 51 suitcases.
I was wrong to insist on that. Check in was smooth as butter (kudos, Southwest), but our glut of carry-ons made boarding a nightmare. Poetically, my bag couldn’t fit and had to be checked.
So we’re underway, and I’ve already learned an important Mission trip lesson: don’t fear the checked bag.
You know what though? My fellow leaders and our youth we’re exceedingly gracious.
Leader makes us do something unnecessarily taxing and then is shown definitively to have been wrong, but we don’t give him a word of grief about it?