China I

Some of you are well aware of the horror show that was involved in actually getting here, and how, by the end of it all, my heart was just plain not into coming. Furthermore, with very current events in my life, deep guilt about leaving the country at this particular moment in time was also combined with all of the above. So, it was not with an easy, free heart that I was leaving.
However, off to Pearson I went anyways. Not two minutes after being dropped off, I found out that my flight was being delayed by two hours. D'oh! Next, I arrived at the ticket counter to find out that I was being placed on standby, and they couldn't guarantee that I would be able to get on my already-delayed flight. Nor could they explain why my reserved seat had magically disappeared from their computer system. Heading through the security system, I was actually taken out of the line, selected "at random" for a body search, which, I suppose, did waste some of the time that I had to kill, waiting for my flight. It was not boding well at all. By the time I arrived at the gate, the departure time had been pushed back yet another hour, thus leaving me to stew at Terminal 1.
To me, by this point, because of everything else that had happened while preparing to go on this trip, I was really feeling that really, I wasn't meant to go, and I had really not been paying close enough attention all the way along. And I sat and prayed, "God, if you sincerely want me to go home and deal with the acute issue that I'm leaving, just let Air Canada reimburse me, and I'll go home." People who were hearing about my ordeal just to get to the gate, and who were aware of everything else that had happened, were at the ready, waiting for the call to come to Pearson and get me.
However, God sent a few angels along, and, through Providence herself, I ended up in First Class ('werd to the two angels), and also was connected safely through customs and into the city by another few angels as well.
It's funny how that happens. It does make me wonder at the grace of God, or, perhaps, how His will works. Because until He sent them along, I was fairly convinced I was not supposed to be here, in this country, at this point in time in my life. And perhaps I am still not. However, I am thankful for the small graces He provides to show that He does know that I am here, and that He will open His hand, when we are not sure where to turn...