Our friend really screwed up. He lives in northern Washington and he’d made a quick trip to Colorado Springs to visit a number of ministries here. We’d seen him earlier in the day, but were surprised when he called us around 8:30 that evening. He sounded somewhat worried. Explaining where he was (on the freeway, heading north), he asked, “How long does it take to get to Denver International Airport from here?”
“About an hour and a half, if traffic is good. Why? What time’s your flight?”
There was dead silence for a moment. Then he slowly told us, “I have a rental car to turn in. And my flight leaves at 9:15.”
Oh-oh. He should have been waiting at the gate already, not 70 miles south of the airport!
(How do you pray in a situation like this?)