Fortune on an office rug

I got this fortune at Thanksgiving, when my family and I had Peking Duck at a Chinatown restaurant. I saved it because I didn’t fully understand it, which is always somewhat appealing. (It normally lives in my wallet; the office rug is just there to provide a contrasty background for the blip.)

My son, who minored in philosophy at college, thinks the message is a tautology: if it doesn’t find a way, he argues, it wasn’t fate to begin with. But I sense something more specific—more like those deus-ex-machina plot turns which occur in certain novels and plays. For me, it hints at a surprise ending, an unexpected intervention that, against all odds, just might result in everything coming out okay.