Proof The Bible Is True

I was going to miss my flight.

 

I was at Myrtle Beach International Airport in South Carolina, waiting to fly out to Michigan and then New York, where two days earlier my 44-year-old daughter, Laurie, had died of a heroin overdose. I had lost my 45-year-old son to the same drug a year and a half earlier. Shock and heartbreak couldn’t begin to describe what I was feeling.

 

I already had my boarding pass when I got to the airport, but something nudged me to go to the ticket counter to check on my flight before I went through security. The agent told me my connecting flight to Michigan was delayed three hours, my flight to New York by another two hours.

 

“Please,” I told the ticket agent. “I just want to get to my family in New York. Is there anything you can do?”

 

Read More: A Surprise Encounter at the Airport Brings Her Comfort | Guideposts