By the time I landed in Chicago I had been awake for 24 hours. I picked up my errant carry on and called my friends Tom and PJ. This couple is a very dear part of our family. Sometimes you just need help with calling the shots, and knowing they have my best interest at heart, I called and PJ answered. When I began talking with PJ she said “Jan, you aren’t making a lot of sense because you are exhausted and stressed. Go get a hotel room and call me once you are checked in.” That was just what I needed. Doing exactly that, I called her back and she said “Now take a nap and call me when you wake up.” I took my back pack, purse, and wallet apart once again, and finding no license and feeling exhausted and frustrated, prayed again for assistance and divine intervention.
Being sans license, I couldn’t rent a car, let alone buy a truck and drive to Wasington. What was I to do??” I cancelled my rental car and called Shep, who had been praying for my situation to be rectified. Interestingly enough, Shep echoed PJs advice, so I gave up and took a nap.
With a few hours of sleep under my belt, I woke up, took a long, hot shower and realized I hadn’t eaten in over 20 hours. Fortunately the Marriott I was staying at had an Outback Steakhouse right next door. Following a lovely meal, I reached into my purse to pluck out my credit card and what did I discover, stuck to the back of the credit card? My driver’s license!!
OK, let’s revisit the particulars of my problem: 1) My purse was closed and zipped inside a back pack which I never opened after removing my drivers license from it to go through TSA in San Francisco. 2) I showed the agent my drivers license to be able to enter the TSA line and put it in a dog bowl along with my cell phone to go through the scanner. 3) The license mysteriously disappears from the dog bowl. 4) I run to my connecting flight and have still not opened my back pack. Once on the flight, I search for my license and it is nowhere to be found. I closely scrutinized each card or item in my wallet and back pack and it was still not there.
I not only believe in but have witnessed God’s tender mercies and have had a life filled with “grace notes”. I have witnessed miracles. The reappearance of my drivers license was a miracle.
I called Shep and told him what had happened and after a short discussion, decided together that although I was perfectly capable and competent to do so, perhaps I was not meant to make the long drive to the west coast alone. We decided I could benefit from some R and R by visiting Tom and PJ. (YAY!) so I called Tom and PJ, texted Bill, the kind and understanding seller of our RV, made a rental car reservation, took another long, hot shower, and fell quickly into the arms of Morpheus for a night of regenerating sleep.