So like I said yesterday, we had a blast in Kona. We played from early morning till late night. Well, late night for me. Sometimes ten pm! We were in and out of the condo, in and out of the car, in and out of the water, etc, etc. I would pack and re-pack my backpack several times in a day it seemed, especially since I had a baby with me- I always needed more diapers, an extra change of baby clothes, blankets, etc.
So a day or so before we’re going to be traveling home, I thought, hey, when’s the last time I saw my passport? Or Ivy’s? I can’t remember! I tucked the thought to the back of my mind and continued on with all the fun-having.
Then it was Wednesday. Our last day. We’re packing up. I still haven’t seen my passports. In ages. All I can remember is taking the passports out of my backpack and placing them on the coffee table. I also very vaguely remember thinking that I should put my passports in a safe place, not leave them on a coffee table in the middle of the living room. That’s where my remembering ended.
We packed for home. We cleaned the condo. We washed all our dishes and all our lines, swept all the floors, and put everything away. Still, no passports in sight. I was trying to stay calm, but panic was starting to set in. We needed to leave for the airport in an hour and by this point all three of us (Jaclyn had gone home a day earlier) were searching high and low. Every drawer was opened, every door was opened. We looked under every piece of furniture, unfolded the pull-out couch and searched in every nook and cranny of the whole. entire. condo. Still, the passports were nowhere. I unpacked my entire suitcase and searched through it again. The backpack has been looked through by all three of us on several different occasions. By now I’m trying to find a phone number of someone to call to say, hey, my passports are lost, what happens now, can I get home? I’m fairly panicked. I’m going to be stuck in Kona with Ivy, and although Kona is a beautiful place, I’d rather be with my family at home.
Alissa suggests we all go to a quiet place and do some praying. I don’t, because I’ve already been praying and those passports haven’t turned up. Alissa heads out on the balcony.
She’s out there for like 3 minutes when all of a sudden she comes marching in to the condo, “I KNOW WHERE THEY ARE!”
She heads straight to the bedroom and emerges seconds later with two passports in hand. Shouts of happiness, sighs of relief, maybe a tear or two ensue.
“God told me where they were!” she says.
She said, “He said, ‘Look in a book.’ and I was like, ‘a book God?’ and He was like, ‘MY book’ ”
Yes, sure enough, I had tucked the passports in a safe place.
I had stuck them in the pages of Rachel’s Bible. Which she had packed up in her carry-on.
This is for real, people. I honestly still can’t even believe this happened. I feel bad that I didn’t pray like Alissa did. I didn’t pray expecting an answer or knowing one would come. I just prayed a desperate “Help me!!” but I didn’t really expect anything in return. Which is silly and wrong, because I know that God can answer and I know that God wants me to be at home with my family, not stuck in Kona without them!
Anyway, can you believe it? You should. Because it’s a true story! A crazy, crazy, true story.