5:17 P.M.^. Indianapolis rush hour traffic halts exactly two hours before my flight. There’s no need to panic.

5:31. While Dad and I creep south on U.S. 31 toward I-465 in his Ford truck, the chicken sandwich I ate gurgles in my stomach. My mouth burns. I tell myself it will be okay when we get to 465.

5:47. I chew Tums, well aware I am not in control. God is.

6:00. When I finally see I-465, I groan. Traffic is at a standstill.

6:01. Dad changes lanes and says, “We’ll have to go through downtown.”

6:05. I open the map on my phone. The blue dot identifying us is far from the airport, so I clutch my phone and pray. I believe God led me to go to the Writing for the Soul Conference in Colorado Springs, Colorado. If I don’t make my flight tonight, God will make another way. But I find it hard to breathe when I think of the financial investment I’ve made.

6:15. Dad dodges potholes on Meridian Street.

6:26. Dad thanks the Lord each time we make a green light on Capitol Avenue. I think of Moses parting the Red Sea.

6:29. We pass Lucas Oil Stadium, and I-70 beckons. The sunset streaks the sky with brushstrokes of orange, purple, and pink.

6:30. Dad’s truck roars onto the Interstate. I wonder if the airline will allow me to check my bag.

6:35. I squirm because I drank too much lemonade.

6:38. I spot airport signs. “Wait in the cell phone lot until I call you,” I say, and Dad agrees.

6:42. Dad parks, unloads my luggage, and hugs me. I scurry to the ticket counter.

6:44. I drop my credit card twice before I check in with three minutes to spare. The airline accepts my suitcase. It pays to be early.

6:47. I race to the security checkpoint where I am the only passenger. A motherly TSA agent guides me.

6:49. Another TSA agent swabs my hands for explosives. She discovers chicken grease.

6:52. When I see people waiting to board at my gate, I veer into the restroom.

6:55. I get in line at the gate and call Dad.

6:57. I board the plane, collapse in my seat, and breathe.

7:17. The flight leaves.

12:42 A.M. After a layover in Chicago, I arrive in Colorado Springs as scheduled, thankful for God’s impeccable timing. I enjoy the conference, learn many helpful tips, meet fascinating people, and know I am blessed that God cleared the way.