Whenever I travel, something always goes wrong. It's like G-d tests me to see just how much He can push me until I forfeit. The cycle of events looks something like this: I plan, anything and everything goes wrong, I cry, things miraculously work themselves out.
But it has never actually happened where I get a clear sign/message letting me know that He actually heard me. Until 3 weeks ago.
I arrived into Israel on Monday evening and took a shairut (carpool cab service) from the airport to my hotel. I was the last one dropped off and when I opened the trunk, I was surprised to see that the only suitcase in the trunk did not belong to me. I started to panic but the cab driver reassured me that when the other person realized they had the wrong suitcase, they would call the cab company and the switch would be made. He told me to come back to the cab office in about an hour or so and my suitcase should be returned by then.
I went to my hotel and returned back to the cab office an hour later only to be told that my suitcase had still not been located. As it was getting later and my jet lag was kicking in, I went to check one more time and still it had not shown up.
So back to my hotel I went, suitcase-less and full of disappointment.
The next morning, I hurried over to the cab office, sure that all my belongings would have turned up by now. But no.
That was it. I came to the conclusion that the person who had my suitcase thought my clothes were cuter than theirs and they weren't planning on ever returning it.
So off I went to buy new clothes, new toiletries, and Advil for my stress-induced migraine.
It was then that I decided that I should gather all my belongings (aka my purse and another big plastic bag), walk to the Old City, and pray at the Western Wall for my suitcase.
I hadn't been to The Wall in 3 years and tend to get emotional whenever I'm there. But this time, I was the most emotional I've been in awhile.
I found a chair, sat down, and prayed my heart out (not just for my suitcase, but for everything that was going on at the moment.) Being in a different country. Alone. No belongings. I prayed for my family. I prayed for the sick people. I prayed for clarity. I prayed for my friends. I prayed for my future. I prayed for my health.. I was having an open and honest conversation with G-d. More open and honest than I've ever had. Each word took on a new meaning that I never realized was there before. And with each prayer, I sobbed. I was crying so hard my eyes were fogging up and I couldn't read the words in front of me. I read each word and I meant each word. And when I was done praying, I breathed a sign of relief.
That was the best chat of my life.
From there, I went to find the closest restroom to wash off the mascara that had rolled down my face. As I'm washing my face, I look over at the sink next to me and recognized the girl washing her hands.
"Hey! Weren't you on my [cab] yesterday?"
She paused. Then smiled as she asked, "Are you the one missing your suitcase?!"
Turns out, there had been a 3-way suitcase swap involving 2 other girls who happened to be friends. They figured out late at night that there was a mix-up but didn't know what number to call or where to go to locate the missing suitcase.
I informed them where their suitcase currently was and they organized to have mine returned there as soon as possible.
Moral of the story: Miracles do happen.
