Travel Traumas

What do you do when your flight is cancelled and the knock-on effect could be that you don’t get to California at all in time for Thanksgiving?

Pray. 

And have a good network of pray-ers. And a husband who goes the extra miles to do all he can to get you there.

At  7.45 pm I got the email from BA saying due to fog my early flight to Heathrow was cancelled, meaning I would miss the LA leg. All other options yielded nothing. Apart from a possible all nighter on the train.

They couldn’t tell us on the phone if there were a berth available, so I closed the suitcase without another thought of what was in or wasn’t, raced out the door and within an hour was in the last berth available.

Sitting in the bar drinking hot chocolate, I realized that even so, I would be hard-pressed to get across London to Heathrow in time for a 10 am flight. The army of pray-ers kept going and I even slept a little on the train.

Train arrived on time in Euston Station (another miracle), and as I reached the top of the first flight of steps down into the tube, a young man offered to carry my heavy case down for me. (an angel in disguise?) 

There was nobody in the queue for tickets. Paddington Station was only 4 stops away and the trains were on time. Another young man offered to carry my case back up the stairs. (another angel) 

The Heathrow Express arrived in 10 minutes and took 15 minutes to get to the airport.

The fog had grounded other flights but mine to LA was still flying, on time, and I made it. Though they thought I wouldn’t make it and had given my aisle seat to another passenger, there was another aisle seat available. 

Miracles all the way. Thanks to a great and gracious God.

And the sky is blue here.