Lessons of a lost bag

I'm going to tell you a story... partly for my therapeutic benefit and partly because I think you could learn something from it too. 


This is the story of my lost bag. I arrived into Johannesburg last Sunday morning groggy from 48 hours of traveling. I was worried about getting though immigration, finding my bag, and making it to my next flight. My bag had only been checked to Johannesburg because I had two separate reservations-- one to Johannesburg and then one from there to Beira, Mozambique. Surprisingly, all those steps I worried about went perfectly. I had made it through everything and just had one last step: checking my bag to Beira. 


I navigated through the airport with all my luggage to the South African Airways counter. I waited in a line and it was finally my turn to check in. The man asked where I was headed. I said, "I'm flying to Mozambique". I offered my itinerary but the man shook his head and refused it. He took my passport and finished checking me in. He handed me a boarding pass and checked my bag to Beira.................. or so I thought. 


Just as I was about to get in line for security, I glanced down at my boarding pass and noticed my destination was not in fact Beira but Maputo (another city in Mozambique) and my name was not Allison Holt but Houmungasldkfj (not to be racist but it was some sort of Asian name). I ran back to the desk and told the employee of the error. 


He freaked out. He grabbed my itinerary and ran me over to another counter. A girl sitting there checked me into my real flight to Beira. The first man took my luggage tag for Maputo and said he would run down and switch the tag from Maputo to Beira. I stopped him and asked what would happen if he didn't find it and switch the tag. He confidently stated, "I will find it". 


He didn't. Or he got ticked and decided to take it himself? Not sure. Only fact I know is it's been 9 days and no bag has arrived yet. Even with all the phone calls and begging my sweet Portuguese-speaking husband has been doing, we have no answers.


At first I was really mad about the whole thing, especially because in hindsight I see how I could have prevented all this. In my vanity, I was upset I don't have my cute clothes to wear on the trip and in my pictures. I was sad to lose the notes and cards from the last year that I had brought with me to read on our one year anniversary. In my good moments, I felt bad that I may have lost the bag full of hygiene kits for the kids in the orphanages. 


But in the midst of my episodes of wallowing this week, we would take a bouncy ride over to the village of Ngupa. I would see the protruding bellies of the malnourished toddlers or see my little friend, Mario, in the same red pants and teal shirt every day. I have never felt so foolish-- complaining about one bag of clothes being lost when I have an entire wardrobe and a full pantry waiting for me in my cushy apartment at home.


Other days our bouncy ride took us to one of the many baby orphanages in Beira. Three or four sets of tiny infant arms would reach out to me at a time not because I was anything special, but because I was simply someone to hold them. Sitting there trying to wrap my arms around all the little ones, I would think of the constant love of my parents and imagine them holding me years ago. These thoughts again left me no room to complain.


Then, I thought no one could refute the sadness of losing my memories with Justin from the last year. That is truly sad, right? Speaking with an older woman, Ann, who arrived to our team the other day gave me perspective. After detailing my saga to her and mentioning my lost cards and notes, she said, "Well, at least you have your sweet husband sitting next to you. Mine passed away last year." Again feeling foolish...


Reading the Bible the other night brought even more clarity. I was reading the Sermon on the Mount in the sixth chapter of Matthew and came upon these scriptures: 

30 Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?

31 Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? For your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.

 33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.

These verses humbled me. So many times our lives are complicated by what we see as "needs". This past week has taught me about true needs. The people here have so little in terms of material "stuff" but they have so much joy. These ideas may seem cliche but to me this week they are very real. My Mozambican friends are happy because their lives, though far from privileged, are beautifully simple. Many times our lives are depressing because they are complicated by the poisons of materialism and comparison. 


If I learned nothing else in the last nine days, it is this. Most things I worry about don't in fact really matter. And most things I think of as "needs" really aren't. We can survive on so much less than we think. If you have a roof over your head, shoes on your feet, someone who loves you, and a chance at an education, you are blessed. 


Although I am still baffled by my luggage situation, this week I feel blessed. 




***A few minutes before posting this, I received an email that my bag has been found! That in itself is a miracle of miracles. We'll go pick it up this afternoon at the Beira airport we've come to know so well. :) A HUGE thank you goes out to my patient and incredibly good-looking husband. My frustration may or may not have been inappropriately directed at him at one point. He was still so good to me and only because of his hard work was my bag found. I'm so grateful he's mine.