This morning a lady rang me.  Quite rummy, actually.  “Unknown caller,” my phone proclaimed.  The caller introduced herself as ___________ from Quantas, in Sydney.

Quantas?  The Australian airline?

Apparently yes.  The lost has been found.  Somehow British Midlands International in Dublin sent a suitcase of mine to Sydney rather than sending it to Kiev.  The check-in lady put the wrong luggage sticker on my suitcase!  (Yes, some poor lady ended up in Sydney without her suitcase–the suitcase handle sticker with her name on it was attached to my suitcase.)  Now, two weeks later, after Jennifer and I have passed through the various stages of grief and settled on a smouldering bitterness against  BMI, this lady calls me up and says she’ll send the luggage up to me tomorrow.  Sydney being REALLY far from Dublin, I suppose I’ll see the suitcase on Tuesday, but we’re still delighted to hear that they found my suitcase.

Dad, do you know how it was finally identified?  The lady asked me to describe the contents.  Was there a Bible in it?  Yes, I said, I had a French Bible in the suitcase.  No more questions from her.  “Yes, we have your suitcase here in Sydney.”  Things like this are little reminders to me that God has fascinating “little” coincidences already in place to fix our mistakes.  I had just picked up a French Bible the day before I left Dublin for somebody in Ukraine.  The luggage sticker being wrong meant that there was no actual identification on that suitcase, but a new French Bible was a rare enough item in a suitcase that it could serve as identification!