Sunday after church, Gayle, Larry, and I had lunch, and then Gayle and I went to Walmart for a few things. I wanted poinsettias for my porch and some snow for my Christmas villages (pictures to follow), and she was looking for kitchen accessories.
We made our purchases, and we stopped at the exit by the little lady who checks receipts. I always put mine in my wallet, forgetting that I have to show them to the greeter every time. I’m there at least once a week, so you’d think I’d remember – but, no.
I drove her back to the church to get her car, and I went home. When I put my purse down, it seemed too light, so I looked into it. I had forgotten to zip the top – again – and noticed my wallet was gone. That’s the wallet with my driver’s license, debit cards, credit cards, cash, photos – THAT wallet.
I immediately began to pray that God would show me my wallet. Then I took action. I called Gayle, thinking my wallet may have fallen out of my purse into a bag of hers, but she was in that wonderful dead zone between Lancaster and Pageland, so I called Walmart. They checked, but no one had turned in a wallet. Still praying (because I don’t have to close my eyes to pray), I headed out to the car. I looked through all the bags and searched my car three times, but there was no wallet.
I decided to check the last place I knew I had my wallet – Walmart, where I had unzipped it to look for the receipts. Since I knew it wasn’t in the store, I swallowed past the big lump in my throat and drove to my parking space – a prime one, row 6, four cars down. Folks, no one had parked in that space though the parking lot was full, and my wallet was just lying there on the pavement, in the open, in full view of half of the population of Lancaster County, because that’s how many people were at Walmart the weekend after Thanksgiving.
I know I’ve written about answered prayers a few times on this blog. This year alone, Mel’s puppy Chloe ran away and we found her twelve hours later; Toby ran off and was returned to us three weeks later; the rain held off on my daughter’s wedding day, only to release in a cloudburst the second the outdoor reception ended, and our son-in-law was signed to an active NFL roster after being undrafted and spending half the season on a practice squad. I was told by a dear friend (who was also praying for him) before he was signed that if it happened, it would be a miracle akin to an act of God. She was thinking of me, wanting to protect me from disappointment. Well, guess what? God still works miracles, and He always answers prayers. How wonderful is that?
I’ve always taught my daughters that nothing is ever lost, because God knows where it is. I pray to find whatever I’ve lost with full confidence that God will show it to me unless it has been destroyed and is irretrievable. My daughters call me if they lose anything important, and God hasn’t failed us yet.
James 5:16b “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.” I don’t pretend that I’m righteous, but for some reason, God loves me, and He answers my prayers. You might think I’m lucky; I think I’m blessed.