Continuing my airport security adventure…
While I was deciding what to do with the Leatherman gift, I was scanned with a wand and then taken to a private room to lift my shirt and reveal my thickly stuffed money belt. I had to remove the belt and hand it over to the security agent (a female, thank God.) She looked inside and then returned it to me. But my heart was beating out of my chest during those few seconds. All of CrossRoads’ finances for the remainder of the year were there. Not a small sum. But, I reasoned, God had provided, He will protect.
After that I returned to the screening area, took my hand luggage (just a backpack type thing) and walked fifty yards or so to the ticketing area to check the hand bag through so as not to forfeit the gift. Time was short as my plane was getting ready to board. I even had to take the bag to a special “bulky luggage” receiving area. All my creature comforts for traveling were in there, but what to do? It was the only reasonable solution.
Imagine my joy in Samara when my regular luggage appeared on the belt…and then a few minutes later, my pack. I had many doubts about it getting on the plane in time in Munich and then also making the transfer in Frankfurt. But there it was and after yet ANOTHER xray I was out the door into the waiting arms of Tanya and my other friends who came in their car to drive me home. HOORAY.
But no…the story isn’t over. Later on that day, after my nap, I began unpacking and preparing the gifts to present to Natasha and Volodya. Sure the Leatherman was there. But the rest of it…Tom and Brenda’s packet of letters and gifts, had been rifled through. Torn, mutilated, and emptied of their valuables. OH! I WAS SO ANGRY!!!! I just HATE stealing.
The great need to unburden my furious soul took me into Natasha’s kitchen. She could see by my face, nearly in tears, that something had happened. I told the story and her face also changed into a picture of great pity. And for whom? For me, the witless victim? For the givers who will hear of the crime and feel such disappointment? For the empty-handed recipients who as yet knew nothing of their loss?
No, her pity extended beyond the obvious to the thief–for the shallow condition of his or her soul, for the greed that robbed trifles for another’s pleasure and to fill a black and empty heart. What will be the result of the overflow when the pressure of its destruction bursts forth? Pity the ones.
God says to us, “Vengence is mine, I will repay.” For me, those words have always been about punishment–and that those who have been injured will be vindicated. Today, however, I hear “repay” differently. God’s voice in my ear says, “I will provide.”
Volodya had this to say: I wish them to get pregnant.