Miracles of Miracles!

Flying, always an adventure, is exercise in patience, trust blended with faith.  It is best embarked with attitude of reliance not on schedules or itinerary, rather providence or in my case, God's will.  With relative 'hope', I view tickets as potential possibility rather than accurate account of what will be.  As I press through life my expectations if loosely held make for less stressful travel.  In event that scheduled itinerary unveil as smooth transitions, supplanting delays, rebookings and overnight stays in airport gate hotel, I consider such blessed transport to desired destination.

When our first flight from home port was delayed due to stoppage in San Francisco, my mind not overtaken with panic, switches to problem solving.  How will we connect with those in Croatia with changed arrival should we miss our connections and have no working cell phone?  We are told, since all flights are stopped in and out of San Franisco, we will make our connection to Frankfurt, but once in the air to Frankfurt we will need creative alternative to contact our friends should we be delayed sufficient to miss our connecting flight from Frankfurt to Split, Croatia.

One of our friends in Croatia happens to have a Vonage phone with a local area code.  11:30 am in San Diego it is 8:30 pm in Trogir.  I call, they answer and we devise a plan to use their local number there from a phone in baggage services or ? to let them know of our arrival.  Plan 2?  If need be, we catch a cab to their place (I know how to get there from the airport) and they will pay for it with Croatian Kuna when we arrive.  If I were to turn on our mobile phones upon arrival, we would be charged a large sum for just one month of international service...so, no mobile while there.  With two very viable plans, calm ensues (the joys of successful problem solving and Kent is good at this). 

Arriving in San Francisco overhead pages beckon last call for boarding to Frankfurt, not knowing where to go, needing to move from national to our international terminal gate, we ask and are directed towards the beckoning gate.  With moments to spare, the last to board our 747 to Germany, we blast through the airplane door, find our seats sans overhead room for carry ons anywhere near.  Looking to nearby stewardess, disheveled and confused I'm sure, she and we search for niches.  Finally locating an overhead spot relatively close I lift and load our bags into the cavern, thank her for her efforts and as I head away she informs me we all need remember where they are stowed.   All passengers peering eyes pressed on us, we, the reason for their extended waiting. Crumbling into my seat, the pilot informs us that ground crew is replacing a valve, having some trouble, not to be concerned as there are several other valves as backup in the system.  He continues to say it will probably be another fifteen minutes and we will be informed when we are clear to leave.  The stress of delayed departure transfers from us to the service of our airship...thankfully. 

Departure nearly an hour and a half late, we are expecting to miss our flight arriving with only 30 minutes in the international gate in Frankfurt, requiring an uncharted dash to our gate for Split, Croatia.  Unbeknown to us, at the time, our friends in Trogir, following my Facebook updates are confident we will not make our scheduled flight to Split.  Having yet to travel through Frankfurt, in the gate at 10:51 we cross paths with two attendants holding a list of airline gates, together helping another weary traveler find her gate.  Time of the essence, I thrust my ticket before the helping partner, informing them of our 11:20 departure. Catching our urgency plague she escorts us to a counter informing us that we will probably miss our flight.  Jumping around the other attendant helping 7 others waiting in line, our travel angel punches the computer keyboard meticulously, with puzzled look, picks up the phone talking to someone and hangs up.  She then repeats the process, her countenance changing from concern to smile handing back my ticket, pointing down the hall she tells us to hurry as we may make it.  The departing gate knew we were in the airport, making our way there.  There then seemed a lack of confidence arising in her voice.  She seemed to know that it was a mile's walking, no running distance, including a tram ride to the other terminal, then through the German baggage check.  Yes, the Germans insist upon rechecking all baggage though we have not left the secure part of the terminal, and yes, both Carrie and I get stopped to open our bags as they look for things that appeared on their scans, including her travel blow drier.  

With me finishing first, we decide I should abandon her and run to the gate letting them know of our presence, at least half of us, hoping that would make them hold the plane.  As I come flying up to the gate, the attendant, looking up expectantly seems relieved at my arrival, two minutes, yes two minutes before our plane is scheduled for departure.  Asking with a slightly concerning look where my travel companion is, he printed our two tickets needing her arrive to present her passport.  “On her way held up at baggage check” my response.  His concern turned to calm seeming willing to wait.  My pounding heart and sweaty back (from my backpack pressed to me as I ran) finding more ease, especially as Carrie rounds the corner towards us at the gate.  

Handing him her passport he extends his hand toward the boarding doors escorting us to but not through the glass doors.  With every step my heart was still racing, yet my joy and satisfaction rose as we finish our race to the cockpit door.  Inside, near the front left of the plane, Dr. Brad Garner, my cohort from academia in teaching, greeted us as we moved beyond him to our seats. Throwing one bag in the overhead, the other under a seat, leaving no foot room, a kind gentleman behind us with an open seat next to him offered to place the other carry on there, leaving us foot space.  Once again we collapse into our seats desperately trying to open the air nozzle for some kind of moving respite for our water drenched clothes.  Miracle of miracles, we made it!  What many, including our friends in Trogir, would believe impossible, we would arrive as scheduled sans our checked luggage.

While I was packing, something told me to pack some clothes in my carry on.  Maybe it was the remembrance of a few years ago when on the final leg of my flight to Croatia, the stewardess dropped an entire glass of my neighbor's orange juice in my lap, maybe it was just the 'be prepared' I was taught as a Boy Scout rising up, or maybe it was the prompting of the Holy Spirit preparing me for the plights of the day, but either way, the preparation saved me.  Needing only a toothbrush and some deodorant, I would be ready to face Sunday, potentially not requiring either.

We arrive at the home of our friends in Croatia to astonishment of Cheri, having prepared a wonderful meal of spaghetti with meat sauce and salad.  Offered choice of beverage, I jump at the bitter lemon, my favorite here in the Balkans.  Sweet conversation ensues and we catch up a bit on the latest in lives.  Filled with food, laughter and love we climb into our 'taxi' to Livno, with Darrin, a member of the team and friend in Livno.  He will be our driver for the hour tranport to the home of other friends there.  Upon arrival, we have coffee and catch up a bit.  Then its to our room for much needed sleep.  The end of this day filled with blessing of friends, food and fellowship here after miraculous mergings and connections, our heads hit the pillow with bellows of thanksgiving for our timely and blessed arrival here in Livno.    It wasn't as planned, but we arrived on time as planned.  It wasn't easy.  Even our friends there did not expect to see us on time, considering back up plans for our foreseen delay.  Miracle of Miracles, we made it, by the grace of God.