I arrived back here in Granada
a few days ago at 3:00am. My flight arrived in Managua at 1:30. For those of you who are
considering flying with Spirit Airlines, I wouldn’t recommend it. The service
is poor, one must pay for each checked bag, they charge for beverages, the
seats are scrunched together, and sometimes they choose to fly at strange hours
to save an extra buck. Last time I take that airline. But I digress.
So I arrived at the AIM base, “El Puente”, at 3:00am. After
getting out of the van, I retrieved my wallet, paid the driver, picked up my
bags and walked up to my bed that was awaiting me so patiently. Late the next
morning I decided to go to the store to pick up some food. When I went to my
room to grab my wallet, I couldn’t find it anywhere. I asked several of the
team members to help me look and still no look. After no luck and nearly all
hope escaped me, I prayed, “Lord, if you’d like to teach me something here,
please teach me so that I can get my wallet back… or maybe this is just me
being absent-minded.”
I felt compelled to open the Bible, so I did. I don’t
remember the passage exactly, but it was Jesus saying something to this effect:
“When you pray, expect that you will receive what you ask for.” I prayed that I
would get my wallet back and then went about my day, with quite some difficulty
believing that I’d get it back. Before dinner I decided it’d been long enough
and went to call my bank. I was sure that I’d left the wallet on the street
after I paid the driver and, if so, I’d never see it again. Crime here in Granada is rampant.
Anyone seeing an $80 wallet on the street with credit cards in it is going to
pick it up and try to get as much money as possible.
So I called my bank, explained the situation and had a new
card sent to a friend who’ll conveniently come down here in a few days. As I
was talking via Skype, my cell phone rang three times. Trying to sort out my
problem, I ignored them all. I hung up with the lady at the bank as my phone
rang a fourth time. It was Heather, a member of AIM staff here, exclaiming, “A
guy came by and has your wallet!” I couldn’t believe it.
Shortly after, I made my way down to this man’s house. His
name is Jose Luis, he has five children and no job. He was walking down the
road early in the morning when he came across my wallet outside the front gate
of El Puente. He didn’t take anything from it, but returned it to me gladly.*
What grace the Lord has for my weaknesses in belief, not to mention just remembering
things!
So I’m back at it in Granada
now. Time with the family was enjoyable while it lasted. I have a feeling it’ll
be a good while until I see them again.
*This is not the first time I’ve lost this same wallet. I
misplace it frequently. On one such occasion, I lost it in a crowd of about 10,000
at a music festival akin to Woodstock in Chicago. Miraculously,
someone found it and returned it to the lost and found with everything – cash,
cards, I.D., and a ticket for the next day’s concert – in its place.
