I’m a believer in serendipity. I wasn’t aware of it at the moment, but I was being put in a very special situation.
I’m at the age where I run to the TV every time a commercial comes on for memory enhancement. I don’t run for every enhancement commercial, just the memory products. In all honesty, I do get mixed up and often hear male enhancement products. I’m always disappointed when that happens.
I’ve been forgetting things lately and I’m concerned. My husband and friends tell me I need to slow down. “Nothing is that urgent,” my husband reminds me daily. He suggests I plan three things a day to accomplish. My tornado mind spits out fifteen things, throws them in the air, and waits for them to land so I plan out my day. There is never a plan, to be honest.
Last week, I realized my husband might be right. I found myself at gate 30 for my flight to the B Beautiful Women’s Conference in Texas. I’d packed my suitcase, charged my kindle, packed my make-up, packed books to sell, and lastly, got my mobile boarding pass. I was ready to fly!
I arrived at my gate at precisely 6:20 to watch my flight gain altitude. I thought it departed at 7 a.m. I’d put the boarding pass on my phone. You’d think I’d notice that time. No, in my mind the flight was at 7 and I ‘d have time to grab coffee. Actually that flight in my mind was for another flight to my granddaughter’s birthday the following week.
Tears started, a hot flash was on the way and a meltdown was surely in my very near future. How could I be so stupid? I didn’t have extra money to book another flight. I was so upset with myself. Naturally there were three, very slow people, in front of me at customer service. I snorted through my tears.
“Why do I keep doing these things, God? What is wrong with me?” I was actually annoyed that God didn’t make sure I double checked my flight. “You know how I am, God. I need help these days.” It’s not really God’s fault that I’m a ditz lately. I felt bad that I was mad at Him. I apologized.
The girl at Southwest put me on the next flight, just twenty minutes later. I’d still make my connecting flight. No worries or need for more hot flashes, meltdowns or tears. I ran to the new gate as found an aisle seat next to a middle age woman and a preteen girl.
I sat down, leaned in and said, “We are NOT telling anyone in my family that I missed my flight. They’ll put me in a home!” Their eyes were big, but they both promised and zipped their lips. We smiled in agreement.
I am an author. I just wrote a book Angel Bumps, Hello From Heaven. The book contains sixty stories of signs people have received from a loved one in Heaven. My goal was to help people with grief. Since I believe they are never really far from us, I wanted to share my belief to help people. For some reason that morning, I took a book from my suitcase and put it in my carry on.
When the young girl got up to use the ladies room, I asked her mom if she was going home or visiting. She pulled issues from her purse and started to cry. “I’m going to my son’s funeral. He was twenty-four. He and his sister were so close. She’s only eleven and can’t even talk about him right now.” My heart dropped.
I knew why I was on this flight now. I always ask God to use me if He needs me. I just wasn’t expecting it that morning.
Here I was bitching, moaning and grouching that I was an idiot and why didn’t God pinch me to get me on the right flight. He had other plans. That day I was meant to be on the 6:40 flight in an aisle seat, right next to this woman.
I reached into my bag and said, “I wrote this book and I want you to have it.” She held it in her hands and cried some more.
“I just spoke to my son the night before this happened. He sounded so happy. He couldn’t sleep and took some over the counter sleeping aides to help him rest. It must have reacted with his pain medicine,” she explained. I was speechless. What could I possibly say to ease her pain?
We exchanged cards. I called her last night to tell her we prayed for her at the women’s retreat. She thanked me and she said, “I know God is present. I’ve found strength that I didn’t know I had. At his service I told people about how we met on the airplane. I told them there are no coincidences. Thank you so much for missing that flight.”
I smiled when I hung up. “Thank you, God, I whispered, for making me miss that flight.”
There are no coincidences.