from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe

One of my life joys is taking people to the airport. Or picking them up there.

The reason is easy to understand. We all enjoy activities that pull us out of our humdrum routines.

There is that. But there is something more, as well. On each drive back from the airport, I feel as if I am arriving for the first time. That all possibilities are open. That I have no history.

Those moments are, of course, delusions. But having a brief moment that is a stranger to reality is refreshing. Like a sorbet after the fish course.

This morning, the Escape and I made a trip to the airport with -- . But that is the story. Maybe I should introduce you to them before we go any further.

Let me introduce the Fagans. Peter and Simi are the parents. Their children are Neil and Selah.

During the winter, our church here in Costalegre has a good-sized congregation. The reason is simple. The winter is when the English-speakers are in town.

In the summer, our numbers dwindle to a few. For the early part of the season, Nancy Lennie and I were the congregation. But, we proved to be the perfect size for church services.

When only two of us are here, we can pretty much do as we choose. What we chose to do was build our service around Bible study. First, John's gospel. Lately, Acts. We pray. We discuss what God is doing in our lives.

A couple of months ago, we were joined by a woman from British Columbia and one from Washington. We were almost like an Acts 2 congregation -- doubling our numbers.

At the start of July, we were joined by the Fagans. Once again, doubling our congregation. But this was a very dynamic doubling.

The Fagans are Canadians. They are young. They are well-read.

The book of Acts relates the foundation of the Christian church. The Fagans were able to bring that spirit to us in person. Their mission in life is to start churches around the world. They had been doing just that in Oman.

I was fascinated. Not everyone knows where Oman is. Not only did they know; they had lived and worked there. Their narratives helped to bring our study to life with a certain sense of immediacy.

Their month here passed far too quickly. I had offered to take them to the airport. Probably to feed my "new arrival" jones.

As I was driving to the house this morning where they were staying, it occurred to me just how much I had enjoyed their presence in our group. Then, it hit me. They had been here a full month and I had not invited them to my house.

I am certain they would have enjoyed the pool. We could have grilled chicken and had interesting discussions.

While we were loading their luggage in the Escape, I noticed a guitar and a lady guitar. They are musicians. Part of their family entertainment is to play and sing at home.

That led to a broader discussion on music. How they like to listen to more obscure classical music because they enjoy the challenge of analyzing new music. That literally was music to my ears.

And it made me realize how my narcissism this month kept me from participating in a great relationship. It was right there before me, and I missed it.

I would like to say the next time I encounter people, who have a story to tell, that I will take time and invite them into my life. But I know me too well. And it is a shame.

Life presents us daily with plenty of opportunities. We first need to acknowledge the possibilities. And then grab the moment.

As it is, the Fagans are well on their way back to Canada. And I am on my way to San Miguel de Allende for the chamber Music Festival.

I do intend to enjoy that.