Sometime back I flew from Dallas to Sao Paulo and then on to Porto Alegre in the south of Brazil. Almost as soon as I got on the plane to Porto I fell asleep, waking up just as we were landing.
I got up with everyone else and walked into the airport looking for my friend, Mark, whom I was there to visit, but there was no Mark.
Very unusual for him. After waiting for over an hour I realized I might have gotten off the plane too soon and might be in the wrong city, so I went back into the airport and asked if I actually was in Porto Alegre. Apparently the person I asked didn't understand English, but nodded yes anyway. So, thinking I was indeed in Porto Alegre I had to figure out what to do. I had no phone number (dumb me), so I decided to go into the city, find a five star hotel, and use their business center to send an e- mail. That's when Adriana came on the scene.
The only English speakers were at the money exchange window, and two of the men there were very helpful, telling me the name of a five star hotel where I could go. Just as I was leaving to get a taxi, Adriana spoke up. I hadn't even noticed her until she said she could take me since she was getting off work and going that way. Since she spoke English--she had lived in London and then New York until recently--I asked the Lord not to let me waste this opportunity. So I started to tell her about Jesus. She listened, asked questions, and, when we arrived at the hotel, turned off her car engine, listened some more, and prayed to receive Christ. Wonderful!
Encouraged, I entered the hotel, went on the Internet, exchanged messages with Diane, Mark's wife, and got their phone number. But Diane couldn't locate the hotel where I was, so I went downstairs, got the street name, and called to confirm my location. But the answer to the call made no sense to me. All I heard was some music and strange words I couldn't understand, so I gave the phone to the desk clerk for help. It was then that I mentioned I was making a local call to Porto Alegre. "Porto Alegre," he said, "This is Florinapolis--Porto Alegre is four hundred kilometers away!"
I met Adriana by mistake, a Divine "mistake," the kind God planned from eternity past. You see, I had gotten off the plane one city too soon because I was sleeping when they announced our arrival. When I saw everyone else getting off the flight I assumed I was at Porto Alegre, but I wasn't. I had only gotten to Florinapolis.
So do you think we should pray for more Divine "mistakes" in our lives? If you do, be careful the next time you fly. You just might meet an Adriana because of a God planned "mistake." And, yes, I did get to Porto Allegre for a delightful dinner and evening with Mark and a great time the next day with Diane and their two youngest children.