It was a kind, personal blessing that invited the spirit into the car and into our hearts.
I was grateful that Todd was worthy and ready to exercise his priesthood, and noted more than once the miracle of our intersection at one of the world's busiest airports.
I dropped Todd and his colleague back at the departure curb and wished them safe travels. As they left Georgia, I drove south to Columbus knowing all would be well.
As promised, I found just enough strength to speak at each and every event, shake each and every hand, and recharge my battery on both nights with long, restful sleep.
That's not to suggest I felt perfect every second of the day, but I was perfectly capable of doing what I'd come to do.
On Saturday afternoon — after the completion of my final engagement — I loaded into my rental car and began the 100-mile journey back to Atlanta.
As I drove along, I felt my symptoms return. It was as if heaven had hit the pause button on my illness for two days, and then pressed play to let it run its course. Perhaps it was a lesson not to forget that the ability to meet every obligation had been a blessing, not a coincidence.
I was blessed by the power of the priesthood. Todd was blessed for being worthy to exercise it. His friend was blessed by being able to witness this and learn a little bit more about a faith he does not know a lot about.
When I needed God to remember me most, was it sheer coincidence that our paths collided? When I needed God to remember me most, was it really just a random meeting of two friends?
It was neither.
When I needed God to remember me most, I witnessed a collision of heaven and Earth.
It turns out that heaven is keenly aware of our schedules after all.
Jason F. Wright is a New York Times best-selling author of 10 books, including "Christmas Jars," "The Wednesday Letters," and "The 96th Annual Apple Valley Barn Dance." He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org or jasonfwright.com.
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