I picked up my friend for an early flight and tried to give her some quiet time. I’m a morning person, but I know not everyone is. We enjoyed chatting along the drive—until we had about 30 minutes left. Then we came to a near standstill.

Traffic was backed up over the bridge, and as the minutes ticked by—and the miles didn’t—I began to doubt if we’d make our flight. I wasn’t stressed. I’d been in similar situations. It was a pleasure trip for me, so if I was late, I wouldn’t miss anything. But it was a (partial) business trip for my friend.

When finally across the bridge, traffic cleared quickly, and I did what I could to make progress. We decided to park in the lot by our terminal even though it would be more expensive. But it was full. There was limited time, but if I dropped her off at the door, maybe she’d make it. We wrestled two large suitcases onto the curb. They weren’t for us. It was a five day trip; we packed in backpacks. But we were transporting important items for her daughter’s move. Even if we couldn’t make the flight, the bags could. We’d pick them up later. But perhaps my friend would still make it.

As I slowly made my way into traffic to leave the terminal, I heard my name. My friend took one look at the security line and determined there was no way to make the flight. We lifted the suitcases back into the vehicle, jumped in, then moved a few feet forward before I offered another idea—instead of lugging the heavy bags on and off the shuttle from the parking lot, she could take them inside and wait while I parked the vehicle and got back as quickly as possible. So, we unloaded again, and I drove away.

I still drove as quickly as possible and chose a parking lot I didn’t usually use. But it was closer. I found the spot under a light and waited a couple minutes for the shuttle. Once seated, I glanced at my phone and found a message, “I checked both the bags. The lady told me she thought I could make it. I’m gonna try and see what happens.” There was less than 30 minutes until takeoff, so boarding was starting, but maybe….

When I got to the terminal, I could see my friend close to the TSA check station. The crowd had cleared, and I quickly asked if anyone would mind if I jumped line. I made my way closer to her, just to get separated again through the screening lines. I told her to run and I’d do what I could. As I picked up my phone from the security tub, I saw, “Just boarding C now. It’s a long trek. I hope you make it.” She wasn’t kidding. We were at one of the farthest gates. As I ran, I reflected what poor timing it was to be out of shape! As I caught sight of the gate, I saw three people still waiting to board. I stopped right in front of the agent and showed her my A boarding pass, the benefits now wasted. But I was going to make it.

I immediately walked toward the back of the plane, because it was a nearly full flight. The attendant in the back pointed me to a seat—the last window seat. What? And no one ended up in the middle seat. I texted, “God did it!”

I had no idea where she was sitting. I apparently flew right past her. We sure would have a story to tell. We were certainly thankful God stretched time and coordinated minutes so we made the flight. But I wondered, did God have to show off so much? It made me chuckle, because I know God had been working in the situation no matter what the result. I don’t only acknowledge his goodness when something turns out the way I want. He’s working in all the details, whether I acknowledge him or not.

Of course, he doesn’t show off. He’s much too good for that. But I like to brag about him at times, or I suppose, share stories that point to him.

I leaned back and sighed as the plane pulled away from the terminal. I was glad to be on the plane. I was anticipating the next days in the city. And I was grateful I got to do it all—the tough and the great—with God.

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