Our trip to San Juan started with a miracle. Months ago, when I discovered Caitlin could get away with me for a few days, I started searching the globe to see where we might go. It's always a little tricky flying over Spring Break. My travel benefits are wonderful--as long as there are seats available so you can, you know, actually go somewhere.

When I initially started looking at flights, I was surprised to find that flights in and out of Atlanta to San Juan were wide open. Of course, as the dates neared they became less and less wide open.

Our much anticipated day of departure has arrived, and all the flights look iffy. The plan is for Caitlin to meet me in Atlanta. She calls me 15 minutes before her flight leaves. There are 21 people ahead of her on the standby list. Oh no! She'll never get on. Where did all those employees come from anyway??? I make the snap decision to have her run over to the JFK flight that leaves at the same time. The sweet gate agent takes the time to list her and issue her a new ticket.

In the meantime, I'm still scheduled to go to Atlanta. I've already missed the flight to JFK. I race to catch a flight to LaGuardia that lands one hour prior to the San Juan flight out of JFK. I give Bob a quick call to pray for a miracle, because that's what it'll take, a miracle. He tells me to expect one, yeah right.

I'm completely unfamiliar with both airports and have no idea how long it takes to get from LaGuardia to JFK. I ask my seat mate if he is from New York, he isn't, but knows enough to tell me it's highly unlikely I'll make it. As we deplane, a pilot overhears my seat mate wishing me luck.  He speaks up and offers me a number to call for a car to take me to JFK. The car company tells me exactly where to wait for them: on the departure level, not the chaotic ground transportation level, where I would have headed if the pilot hadn't intervened.

I frustratingly can't find the car that they say is right in front of me (the "Q" Car, which is actually the Kew Car). A woman waves me over and, as it turns out, is a Delta flight attendant too. The driver asks us which terminal? I haven't a clue, but the flight attendant (I didn't even catch her name) answers terminal 4.

I need to use every bit of the drive time to cancel our flights out of Atlanta and rebook us out of JFK so Caitlin can check in for both of us. As we near the airport, the flight attendant checks my flight, I need to go to terminal 2, not 4.  The security line is crazy. I am a strict rule follower, but desperate times require desperate measures. I go to the TSA pre-screened line--that I know I shouldn't be in out of uniform--and the TSA agent begrudgingly allows me through.

I make it to the gate just as they are boarding. Though the flight is oversold, we miraculously have seats. Caitlin even has a seat in First Class! I start crying. I can't help it.

Only an all powerful God could've orchestrated all these details to get us on this flight to San Juan. Several people needed to show unusual kindness and thoughtfulness. And God provided them: Caitlin's gate agent, a last minute walk-up with no reservation and no ticket easily unhinges many agents, but not her. The pilot, piping up with an ever-so-helpful phone number. The sweet flight attendant, taking the drive time to look up my departure gate. The TSA agent, some of which are on such a power trip that they take pleasure in "schooling" us on the rules, giving me the nod instead. Yes, God used these kind strangers to accomplish what I figured was a lost cause, and it made me that much more thankful for the precious time away with my sweet daughter. Thank You Jesus!