Max Lucado wrote a book with this title, but please don’t expect anything remotely close to Max.  I’m sure that other than our love for Jesus the only thing similar about us is our first initial.

In the past few years I’ve gone from an occasional traveler to a regular one.  I’m still trying to figure it all out.

I long to be the girl who breezes through the security checkpoint with small, but efficient rolling bag and a darling hip bag that is flat without a single bulge in sight.  She slips off her shoes, shrugs off her jacket and tosses all her worldly belongs into a single tub and off she goes through the scanner with such confidence and grace.   I’ve yet to reach that level.  I do have the rolling laptop bag but it’s crammed full of all manner of stuff from my laptop to the curling iron that almost didn’t make it on the trip.  I tend to use my laptop bag as the overflow, catch-all of packing and considering my lack of ability to focus on any one task for more than 7.9 seconds you can only imagine the pressure I put on that laptop bag.

As for purses, small and flat  is just not in the cards for me.  I’m the oversized, stuffed within an inch of its’ life purse girl.  I do try to carry cute and trendy bags to make up for my lack of packing abilities.

I show up at the security checkpoint with my oversized, overstuffed purse and my bulging laptop bag – with only  two carryon bags and I have to make the most of it!  It’s getting through security that takes all my concentration and mettle (I’m really not sure what mettle is, but I think it means courage and it’s not a word I use much… mostly because I don’t know what it means.)

Here are a few things I struggle with at the security checkpoint:

License/boarding pass checker guy/girl — my nature is to befriend everyone and just talk away, but I’m afraid to do that with this group. I don’t want to appear as if I’m trying to buddy up to the security guys/girls.  This might make me look suspicious and then I’ll end up in one of those rooms where they take all the stuff out of your bags and HOW in the world am I going to repack all this stuff and make it to the airplane on time and I’m also afraid of what they will think when they pull all my junk out and find three bottles of nose spray (don’t want to be caught without it), a flat iron, two jars of eye cream (one to lift and one to shrink the bags), makeup, and all manner of odd pieces of jewelry because a girl never knows if she’ll be in the mood for long silver beads or funky crystals and ribbons.

And because of all the above, I just avoid all eye contact with the boarding pass, ID checker — which probably makes me look just as suspicious as my natural overfriendly self makes me look.  I don’t know about you, but I have a headache from just thinking about all of this.

Speed tubs – shoes off, jacket off, laptop out, water gone, liquids bagged (only 3 ounces!), and everything in the tub – doesn’t sound that difficult but you try it with a line longer than the grand opening of the latest Twilight flick.  The pressure just wrecks me. I’m so worried that the people behind me are late for their flight and my lack of speed tub efficiency will cause them to miss their flight and possibly the MOST IMPORTANT trip they’ve ever planned.  I know, I create a mess of my own drama.  It’s part of my charm.

Force field entry – I’ve unloaded all my stuff onto the moving belt thingie and I’m standing barefoot waiting my turn to walk through the force field  — and I’m just waiting to hear that beeping noise that lets me know I’m packing something. Usually the something is a gum wrapper or an ink pen stuck behind my ear.  I am so thrilled when I make it through I want to jump for joy, but again, don’t want to look suspicious.

Is it any wonder that I’m worn slap out when I make it to my gate?

What about you?  Do you pack light?  Or travel with the kitchen sink?