The Hand of God
I am in Scotland. S C O T L A N D. This is me; Joanna, the one whose comfort zone is within about one square mile, who said she never wanted to leave the USA, who hates to travel on anything public, who nearly hyperventilates at the mere mention of airplanes. How is this possible that I am here? Only by God's grace. Every step in front of the other, every long line, every minute on those airplanes was enabled by God's grace. On my end, it wasn't always pretty--usually it was very ugly--and I may have said, "I can't do this" more times than we could count (Josh had to tell me to quit saying that), but God was faithful to me and I have a really great story about one such miracle to share with you, but for perspective and contrast I have to share a really ugly story first. Here goes: We dropped off our rental car in Dublin about 11am, and had to ride a shuttle bus back to the Dublin airport to catch our 1:10pm "quick" flight over to Edinburgh, Scotlan...