The Grace of a Lost Wallet, Part II

God always answers my prayers but rarely in the way I expect or intend when asking. My lost wallet is a great example. Mind you, I never did ask for any help with that wallet. I just went on with my life and figured it would find its way home or not. But first, before I can continue with this story, I will have to direct you to the previous post about the wallet, or the follow-on details will make no sense. So, have a look here (The Grace of a Lost Wallet), then continue below.

Now, while I did not pray about that lost wallet, I did pray about something else. Earlier in the day, I had taken a Super Shuttle ride from Dulles Airport to my Washington office in Arlington, Virginia. The driver was a friendly guy, and when he found out that I did not have a ticket and the shuttle was going to leave in a few minutes, he personally walked me through the convoluted path to the ticket counter and back. Nice guy. Arab, I believe. It took nearly an hour to reach my office in the DC rush hour traffic, during which I added to the five hours of sleep I had just gathered on the red-eye from California, dozing during most of the trip in to town. I had no luggage, and I was the first person off the shuttle. So, I hopped off, with a thank you to the driver, who graciously wished me a good day.

As I entered the building, it slowly dawned on me that Super Shuttle is a taxi and not a company-supplied van, which I usually take but could not this time because the trip came at such short notice, given my early hour of arrival. I should have tipped the driver. I headed back out the door, just as the driver re-started the van and pulled out of the driveway. Feeling a bit stingy over the matter, I asked God to take care of the driver that day and see to it that he got good tips. I felt confident that as a result of that prayer the driver would indeed have a good-tip day.

The rest of the day was filled with successful meetings, at the end of which I grabbed a hotel taxi back to the hotel since our company van was occupied with taking the CEO to Regan National Airport to catch a flight to another of our locations. I returned to Dulles, where I discovered the loss of my wallet. Fortunately, I do not keep my credit cards in my wallet, and so I had my company card to pay the cab driver -- and, this time, to include a tip. The rest of the wallet story is in my previous post.

I arrived home early Friday morning from my redeye and went in to work. I had sent an enote to someone in the Washington office to check in the conference room for my wallet, which is the only place I remembered having opened my purse. Waiting for me was her reply: she had looked everywhere but had seen no wallet. So, all those other options as to who might find it and what s/he might do remained open.

I did not have to wait long. During a morning meeting, my phone rang. I glanced at the number: an unknown 240 number. So, I let voice mail take the call. After the meeting, I called voice mail. There was a man, who called himself Amr, speaking with a distinctively Arabic accent, saying that I had dropped my wallet in the Super Shuttle van. He had been the driver (whom I had not tipped). He wanted to return the wallet to me and asked for me to return his call.

I was about to return Amr's call when the phone rang again. This time it was Amr's supervisor, who was a native speaker of English. He had given the wallet to her and asked her to call because he thought perhaps I was not able to understand Arabic-accented English. (Little did he know how much time I have spent with people who speak Arabic-accented English!) The supervisor told me that my checkbook was in there (had forgotten about that), along with the business cards that had my coordinates so that they knew whom to call, stamps, and $56 in cash. Yep, that is exactly as it should have been. She offered to fedex the wallet to me. I told her to use some of the cash in the wallet for fedex and give the remainder of the money to Amr. She was surprised and said that Amr did not expect that but would obviously be pleased.

So, God did answer my prayer. Amr did have a good-tip day. As with so many of my answered prayers, I could not have predicted the outcome that I, the one who had not tipped him, would ultimately be the one to provide the good-tip day for Amr. Moreover, it was not even an expenditure for me because my per diem would be double that. I had taken about half of my per diem from an ATM just to have some money for meals. However, because I was all day with the CEO, my office provided all the meals, and I am allowed to keep the per diem. So, Amr made nearly $50 on a tip, and I made nearly $50 on per diem post-tip. Win-win. I could never have planned that, let alone even thought of an outcome of this nature. I have reached the conclusion that I don't ever want God to answer my prayers in the way I anticipate because His ways are always so much better than I can dream up!

I just love watching the many ways, so often unusual, in which God sprinkles His grace onto all of His children! Amazing!

7 Quick Takes Friday #30

As Friday nears its end, I can finally relax. After three weeks of non-stop traveling, I am home, home, home!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :) Immediately after returning from Jordan, two weeks ago, Donnie and I rented a wheelchair-accessible van and took off on a 14-state trek over a ten-day period, all in order to see my nephew get married in Ohio. There is more to that story, though. Doah spent his last year in high school living with that nephew and his father, my brother, Rollie. So, there was no question that we would go. Lizzie flew in from South Carolina to meet us. Noelle wanted to go, too. However, she cannot fly because she is now confined to an electric wheelchair, which means being forklifted onto a plane and wrestled into a seat by two baggage handlers. The last time she flew was ten years ago, and we have no desire to attempt it again. Hence, the van. We took the northern route to Ohio in order to stop and see a friend in Nebraska and the southern route back in order to return faster. As part of Jennifer Futwiler's 7 Quick Takes Friday meme, hosted at Conversion Diary, I have focused on seven salient aspects of this week -- people, not places, since places are less special than the people associated with them.

1. Annette. We did not know Annette before this trip. Annette was in the women's room when Noelle got stuck at our first pit stop. She helped her out, and on we went -- but not before an exchange of phone numbers so that she and Noelle can get together. It turns out that they live less than an hour apart and share the same birthday!

2. Geri. Geri was the friend we met in Nebraska. It is interesting the places that I meet Geri. I came to know her in Jordan, where I hired her to teach English literature and composition, thinking that she was a young African-American man and being surprised to meet a middle-aged white lady (albeit from the Caribbean, which had thrown off my ear in talking to her). Then, when she became a department chair at a university in Lithuania, she convinced me to teach an intensive semester course for her, as some who read my blogs from this past January (and January 2009) know. Now, we were going to meet her in Nebraska, where her family has settled. Unbelievably, we drove up to the restaurant at exactly the time we gave her: 7:30 Thursday evening. (Doah was fascinated with the conversation.)

3. Sue Munday. Sue was Doah's special education teacher at Hayes High School. She was one of the few teachers ever to be able to get Doah to read a little. Had she been with him longer, he would probably have been an even better reader. After he graduated from high school (voted "class flirt" -- the first special education student to win a popularity award), Rollie's landlord put him out of Rollie's apartment on the basis that he was not immediate family and now was of age to live on his own. But he was not mentally capable of living on his own. I was working at NASA, flying back and forth between Star City, Russia and Houston, Texas, with no way to take Doah with me, and Donnie was still in California from where we had fled in order to protect Doah (long story, perhaps another time...). Sue called me in Houston and offered to give Doah a home until the group home that we had planned for him to move into was finished being built. As luck would have it, Sue and her two classroom helpers were having a party at a local campground when we arrived, so Doah was invited to join them. Everyone was delighted to see Doah, and Doah was ecstatic to see them.

4. Rollie. Rollie is Rollie. That is the only way to describe him. I have written other posts about him. They can be found here. Of all my siblings, Rollie was the happiest by nature and the most brutally abused by our parents. My mother once stabbed him in the buttocks, and my father once pinned him to the barn floor by throwing a pitchfork through his leg. Still, Rollie managed to keep the kind of temperament that keep children everywhere following him. His grandchildren call him "Old Man" and never leave his side when they are around him. Prying Doah away from him is difficult, too. Doah is already asking to go back to see him, and we left Ohio less than a week ago.

5. Shelly, whom Lizzie calls her twin cousin because they were born within two hours of each other, lives in Columbus, the town next to Delaware, Ohio. She drove over the day after the wedding (Sunday) to attend the birthday party we held for Ronnie and Noelle. Sue came, too, and we found out that her birthday is the day after Noelle's. Amazing!

6. Jake and Jessica. They had a beautiful but unusual wedding. It was a 1920s event. Some folks dressed up as flappers, others as mafia members. Here is a picture of Jake and Jessica cutting the cake (and before they got into the spirit of smearing each other with it). Here also are pictures of the three bridesmaids and the three best men. Guests got into the spirit by dressing accordingly. The wedding was planned for outdoors but was moved inside when a thunderstorm hit Ohio and knocked out power for seven hours. Although the lights came back on right before the 6:00 p.m. wedding, the grass was anything but dry. Nonetheless, spirits were not dampened, and everyone just unfolded the outdoor chairs and made an outside-inside seating area that worked just fine.








7. Autumn and Bubba (Ayden), children of Jake and Jessica. Autumn was a beautiful flower girl. She enjoys playing with her great-aunt Beth. She cutely asks Jessica when I am involved in talking to her, "Can Aunt Beth come out and play now?" Bubba entertained everyone as a little mafia ring-bearer.

I was not back from the trip before I got a call from my boss (see The Grace of a Lost Wallet), hurried the rest of the way home, got on a redeye plane, flew to DC, got on a redeye back same day, and went in to work this morning just like it was a normal day. Oh, come to think of it, it was a normal day.

May all your normal days be a little less than abnormal! (That's what I wish for me, too!) And may scenes, like this peaceful one from Wyoming, fill your days!

The Grace of a Lost Wallet

This evening as the cab driver pulled up in front of Dulles International Airport, I reached into my purse for my wallet... Oh, perhaps that introductory sentence had better be explained since the last time I posted here I was in Ohio. As Donnie and I wended our way back across the USA to California with Noelle and Doah, following my nephew's wedding this past weekend, I received a phone call from my boss.

"Where are you right now?" he asked.

I looked out the window. This was an easy question. "Somewhere in the middle of the Mohave Desert," I replied.

The next question was not as easy, but there was clearly only one right answer. "Can you attend a meeting in Washington, DC tomorrow morning? It is an urgent matter, and the CEO has asked for you to accompany him."

Hm. Let's see. I looked at the GPS. We were on a two-way road, meandering through the desert in the same way that desert plants spring up from seeds strewn by meandering breezes, i.e. without much direction except as the road took us. Almost 400 miles still to go. Hm. Projected arrival time: 7:30 p.m. I read the stats to my boss.

"Oh, that will be cutting it too close to catch a transcontinental flight."

"Ah, wait," Donnie chimed in. "That time is with dropping off both Noelle and Doah." They live in different cities from us.

Donnie punched in our home address. Up popped a pleasant time: 4:30. "Yes, I can do it," I told my boss, "if I take the red-eye from San Francisco." United Airlines has a wonderfully efficient 5-hour non-stop flight from San Francisco to Washington, DC, and since I can sleep easily on planes, I would not arrive too tired.

So, Donnie dropped me off at home, then went on to deliver Noelle and Doah to their homes. He returned right on schedule: 7:30. Then he drove me, newly washed and dressed in business attire, to San Francisco to catch my plane.

And that is why I was in the cab this evening, searching for my wallet. I wanted to give the cabbie cash and not put the tip on my business credit card. I searched, and I searched again. The wallet is large, not small. It could not hide. It was definitely gone, lost, but not likely purloined. I think I must have dropped/left it somewhere.

After entering the airport, I sat down and zipped off a note to one of the people who work in our Washington office, where the CEO and I had spent some time preparing for our "urgent" meeting downtown. Perhaps the wallet fell out there and was still on the floor. So, I await her response because clearly by the time I had made it to the airport, she had left for the day.

While I wait, all kinds of scenarios pop into my mind. Who might find the wallet, and what might he/she/they do with it? It contained sixty dollars. Fortunately, the money was withdrawn on a credit card -- yes, I will have to repay it, but at least it wasn't my grocery money for the week or a draw-down of my checking account, and my per diem will be more than that. It contained no credit cards; I keep my money and credit cards in separate places just because I am ditsy enough to lose one or the other periodically. It did have some stamps from by-gone years; none that would send a letter anywhere this year. It also had some of my business cards so anyone who finds it will know where to send it!

Now, it will be interesting to see if I get it back. With the money? Without the money?

One happy scenario has a kindly and honest person finding it and, seeing the business cards, dropping the wallet into the mail to me, money and all. Or, without the money.

Another happy scenario has an honest person calling me or writing me at the coordinates on my business card and letting me offer to pay for the mailing of the wallet and/or letting me offer an award.

Another scenario, sadly, has a person finding it, seeing the money, taking the money, and throwing the wallet away. Hm, what might that person do with the money? Give it to someone who needs it? Use it because he or she is desperate for money for his/her family and sees the wallet as an unrequested gift or a requested one. Use it out of sense of entitlement or with an internal commitment to return it when able (but not realistically likely ever to be able). Or, using it, and years from now, having not returned it, deciding that since the money cannot be returned, s/he could pass on the same amount to another person -- any person anywhere in need.

I really like to think that perhaps my lost wallet will help someone. (And, since giving up frustration for Lent last spring, I surprisingly -- or maybe not so surprisingly -- feel no frustration at losing the wallet; after all, at this point, I personally have no way to control the outcome.)

I know, though, that it is just as likely that it will be found by a reprobate, who will take the money without a twinge of conscience, and use it to buy booze or something else equally unsavory and unhealthy. Sigh! My first reaction is, "Well, s/he will get his or her comeuppance when everything is over and done with. God will make sure that this person gets punished for his/her dishonesty."

But wait, what if that person repents at some point for all his/her acts of dishonesty. Then, there is no punishment. The grace of God forgives completely -- even the expenditure of my money by someone else. So, I lose the money, and someone else gains it, unfairly, and ultimately, perhaps even sooner rather than later, is washed clean of any wrong doing by the grace of God!?? Now, is this fair? Am I supposed to like this scenario?

Oh, yes, I do like even this scenario. After all, I have needed the grace of God; still do. So, if the choice is between getting my money back and having someone receive the grace of God, is there really any need to think about a preference? Is there really any need even to ask that question?

Oh, I do believe in the grace of a lost wallet!

Sabbath Sunday #24: Damaged Vessel

Fr. Christian Mathis (Blessed Is the Kingdom) has made the suggestion that we "rest" on the Sabbath by taking a break from our normal blogging and sharing an older post of which we are particularly fond. Rest? Gladly! I don't get to do that very often, but now, thanks to Fr. Christian, I get to do it at least once a week -- and it gives me more time to spend with God, which is a wonderful gift.

I prepared this post for automatic uploading before leaving for Ohio with family to attend my nephew's wedding so could not predict what might be most appropriate this Sunday. I hope then that you will find the post I chose, Damaged Vessel, at least interesting.

Have a great week! I will be back on line live before the week is over!

The Last Night Launch

I know this not because I have been good at keeping track of NASA events since I last worked there in 1999 but because a friend recently returned from Cocoa Beach where he watched that launch. (That reminded me a little of the night launch of one of the astronauts who had been my student. He invited Donnie and me to join in his family in celebrating the launch at a reception where he joined us on video since all the astronauts on the crew were quarantine prior to flight. As it turned out, we never made it to the up-close-and-dangerous launch near the pad on Cape Kennedy because Donnie had to return to work, so we turned over our special passes to local friends, Linda and Robert, who took their grandson. It was a dream come true for them, and I always felt good that we were unable to attend because Linda died from cancer unexpectedly just a few months later.)

Well, back to the last launch, I suppose I am not the only person intrigued to know what “last” really signifies. Is it the last of a become-routine 20-year-old program that will subsequently come up with new and exciting events to come? After all, the International Space Station (ISS) is going to continue orbiting the earth with additional crews aboard, brought up by the Soyuz capsule from Baikonur, Kazkhstan, a capsule that is intensely small (I have been in the model at Gagarin Center for the Training of Cosmonauts at Star City, Russia where the cosmonauts and astronauts train, so I know just how small. I am under five foot, and even I felt wedged in.) Or is it now an opportunity for the space program to migrate to commercial companies? After all, all good things must come to an end, right? Or do they?

There seems to be a wide-spread fascination with last things. Look at all the movies with that word in their title: The Last Samurai, Last of the Mohicans (a book, too), Last Man Standing, The Last Starfighter, and many more. I am sure you can list a number of additional ones with no effort at all.

I imagine most of the “last” stories a sense of loss (in that something is going to be anymore) and a sense of gain (in that something new may be coming along it replace the last whatever it was). When the space program began the two superpowers of the world were the USA and the USSR. For decades, we were in a race for space domination. Then, along came the Soyuz-Apollo mission. The astronauts and cosmonauts found out that they had more common interests and concerns than differences, and the space programs found that they could progress more rapidly through collaboration than through competition. During the last decade of the Cold War, while the two countries sparred with each other, the space programs developed join programs, including joint missions to Space Station Mir and culminating in the ISS program, which always has a mixed crew—if the commander is American, the crew is Russian and vice versus. So, since hearing of my friend’s observation of the last night launch, I have been reviewing in my mind the history of space flight and especially the exciting years of 1998-1999 when I was contracted to put together a language program for the ISS program, due to launch a couple of years later. Isn’t reviewing what we do with last events?

There have been a number of other lasts in my life —- the last child, the last day in any number of locations, the last course before being earning a degree, the last day at various jobs, and more. None of them were stopping points but stepping stones to new adventures or a new turn in the journey of life. What have been the lasts in your life and where have they led you?

Blest Guest Wednesday #12: What Does It Really Mean To Forgive? (Kathleen Smith)

At times, my crazy travel schedule interferes with my ability to post regularly, and I have to bring a little sanity to the blogging part of my life by asking for help. I am now entering one such crazy period. Some wonderful fellow bloggers have been willing to write guest posts for me on Wednesdays, hence the name "Blest Guest Wednesday."

As today's "Blest Guest," I asked Kathleen Smith (Heart 2 Heart), who comments on Blest Atheist frequently, to share something she thought would be interesting to BA readers. I think you will find her post interesting, so here goes:

What Does It Really Mean To Forgive?

Ever wonder if that apology you made to someone is really sincere or that the person truly forgave you? Perhaps there is someone in your life against whom you have held a grudge for whatever reason and from time to time you keep remembering and that grudge is the only thing standing between you and that person from resuming your relationship? Perhaps it's a family member who has hurt you on an emotional, physical or mental level. Do you realize that the longer you hold that in, the more your health continues to deteriorate?

We are not meant to hold lifelong grudges against people and even if people sincerely apologize, sometimes they are not forgiven by that person because too much time has passed. Too often these are relationships that need some healing, that cause a wound within our lives that is crying out to be healed. Instead, we tell that voice to be quiet or ignore it completely and continue to bury that feeling ever deeper.

Here are some steps to help you with that process. Even for me, occasionally I think about the relationship I had with my dad that has prevented me from talking to him for more than 13+ years now. It's been so long my current hubby, Steve, has never even met him. The one thing I need to do before it's too late is resolve my side of this disagreement, and here's how:

1. The person who offended this argument or disagreement must be the first one to make the first move. It's not the offended's turn to come to you. It will not be erased from you until you do your part. You will need to do what is right and leave the results to God to deal with.

2. God is honored by immediate obedience. The person could die while you wait and you don't want to live with the guilt and regret for the rest of your lives. So reach out to them as quickly as you can.

3. Others are healed by a vulnerable and honest confession. Healing awaits that confession of wrong doing. Even people who were not impacted initially by this are touched by your sincere apology.

4. If you aren't sure if you have any past issues to deal with, ask God to show them to you and listen to your heart to address any areas of your life or your past. Then go and immediately deal with them. Seek forgiveness for your past behavior.

5. Start immediately without any rationalization. Stop making excuses for why you conducted yourself that way. You had a wrong nature, and don't put it off or pass it off on others. It's easy to make excuses for things that are difficult.

6. Return completely without reservation. You need to have a heart-breaking admission of guilt. Your repentance is incomplete when you are holding something back or have other agendas for doing this. It is a difficult thing to do especially when time has passed. It will hurt, but it's necessary.

7. Repent without hesitation. Hold nothing back, and put your pride in your pocket. Seek legitimate forgiveness. It will benefit all your relationships in your life, even if they are not affected by this. It will make you feel like a new person.

8. Realize that there may not be an immediate forgiveness towards you. Let God deal with that end and work on their heart. As long as you have done your part, it's all God can ask.

9. If we don't forgive someone who seeks forgiveness from us, remember that God will not forgive us when we seek the same from him. Jesus told us that we are to forgive a total of seventy times seven if someone asks. Which means if they ask, and we forgive them, we are to forget it like God does. It may last within our memory but we should be willing to move forward in the relationship. If it's difficult, ask God to help you deal with that part of it.

I hope you get something from this message. I will update you on how it goes with my own forgiveness story with my father in a future blog. My goal is to not wait until it's too late, and I may not have tomorrow to do it!

A Rare Humility

I rarely bring politics into this blog, not because they are not a part of my life for they certainly but mainly because I like to step aside from them and focus on more spiritual matters. However, I would like to make an exception in honor of Memorial Day which is fast fading into yesterday in the wee hours of a new June morning and share a wonderfully written biography of an honest and humble politician I once knew, fully aware that those two adjectives are rarely used to modify that particular noun. I think you will find it as inspiring as I found it edifying. While Mike Mansfield asked not to be remembered, if we don't reject those wishes and honor the humble people of our nation, our nation's greatness will crumble from the cracks that already run through it.

As a former Montana resident during the days when Mike Mansfield was in the Senate, I saw why he was so well respected. He personally stepped in against state politics to save a community day care center that I had established. It is a long story, not necessary to repeat here, and only one of many of the good deeds of the late Senator Mansfield, former Senate Majority Leader. I had no idea that he was a Marine. That he was and how he lived and died, I believe, is a fitting example of a humility that I have often seen in the Marines over the decades with which I have worked with them. Therefore, the tribute that James Grady wrote for him for Memorial Day Weekend is one that both impressed and delighted me, and I feel compelled to point others to this article (not sure where it was first published; I found it floating on the Internet) in memory of a great man. May we all be as humble!

Pvt. Mike Mansfield: Just One Marine in Arlington Cemetery
by James Grady

Of all the chiseled stones standing silent watch over us in these uncivil and dangerous political times, this Memorial Day consider one modest white-marble slab on a green hillside at Arlington National Cemetery:

Michael Joseph Mansfield
PVT
U.S. Marine Corps
Mar 16 1903
Oct 5 2001

Private Mansfield fell not in battle like so many Americans, nor did he endure combat's scars. He lived to know his grandchildren and died at 98 in Walter Reed Army Medical Center. In these MySpace and "American Idol" days, he ordered that his headstone in Arlington disclose no more personal glory than that honor shared by millions of Americans in holding the lowest rank in the United States Marine Corps.

Not that he was America's ambassador to Japan.