“Julia, someone stole my team wallet!” I urgently tell my team leader and my team on the over packed trolley we are taking to town. Moments before, we were shoved on the trolley by the crowd of people behind us. Zero personal space or room to move of any kind, I held onto the rod above me with both hands in order to not fall on every person surrounding me as the trolley jolted back and forth on the road. As we left a stop, some people got off giving us a little more room to move. This is the moment. I look down at my purse to discover the flap to my purse is unsnapped and lifted up. Gasp! Instantly I see the wallet gone. Searching frantically through it, I discover that it is nowhere to be found. Right then, I tell my team It is gone, then…Julia and I notice a man behind me with a smirk on his face. He is the only one near me who could reach it. He has to have it. We both look at each other, but we decide to say nothing in case he has a knife or could get violent. We remain calm until getting off the trolley and then walk directly to a McDonald’s with Wifi. We sit down and Julia starts calling AIM to cancel the team credit card. I go to grab my phone to text someone back home what happened so we can cancel my Charles Schwab card. Umm, I don’t see it. It’s not on the top of my Bible like I left it. It’s gone. He got both! No more iPhone. I pull out my computer and message my brother n law to have him call my parents to cancel the cards. I can’t believe it. Both cards, $100 of team money, and my iPhone gone. Just like that.
A few days pass. I’m recuperating and functioning without the iPhone. We are over budget as a team, but they our squad leader says that it happens sometimes, so it’s going to be ok. I’m feeling better.
Two days later, I go to the mall with Julia to look for some clothes we can wear to church. I find the perfect jean dress to wear with the leggings and socks I brought. She finds a gorgeous blue dress that looks great on her. Success. It feels so much like shopping with my best friend in the states. We almost forget that we are in Quito, Ecuador. It’s time to head back, so we catch a cab to Casablanca. As I get out of the cab, I pay the cab driver, pick up my purse and then I notice. My little pocket on the front of my purse is empty! Ernie is gone! My little Ernie I have had since I was 18 and that has ridden in my car on the passenger seat visor for 10 years is gone. He was in his outside pocket of my purse, but he fell out somewhere…I have no idea where. Ernie is now gone too. That’s it! I can’t handle it! Ernie is the last straw! I may be having a break down…
This is the last picture I took of Ernie, not knowing I was going to lose him. He is on a permanent vacation seeing the sights in Quito, Ecuador from the view of … a taxi!
The next night, I am praying to the Lord. “Why all this loss? What are you trying to teach me? I want to learn it now so I don’t have to go through it again to learn the same lesson! I already left my family, friends, church, home, car, and job for You. Isn’t that enough?” I started reading through Luke 15 where it has parables about the lost coin, the lost sheep, and the prodigal son. Each of the things that were lost were found.
“Well, God, that’s not all that helpful because I’m not going to find these things.” But…then I think, there are millions of lost people in this world. “Every time you lose something, think about all of the lost people who don’t know me. Go find them and tell them about me,” the Lord tells me. As I think about this, I realize that I actually did this without knowing it. I found some of His lost people.
The day after I lost Ernie, I went to a quaint French coffee shop with Danielle and made friends with the three workers there, Jose, the owner, Sandra, the pastry chef, and Marlo, the sandwich chef (if that is a thing). I talked to them about the Lord and talked about God’s love for them and how He sent me all the way here to tell them about Him. I only talked to these people for about an hour, but I love them. I left a little piece of my heart with them. On our ride home, Danielle and I started talking to our taxi driver. His name is Hector. He is 32 and lives an hour away from the city. He works 12 hours a day, 6 days a week. Before getting out of the car, I prayed for him (in Spanish!) and talked to him about Jesus. God loves Hector and so do I.
(Left to Right) Marlo, Sandra, Jose
I lost four things and then…I found four people. God is breaking me more and more so He can shine through the cracks of this broken vessel.
