Recently, while I was traveling with my family, the airline lost my baggage. My husband Daniel and I waited at baggage claim for our luggage but when the last piece dropped onto the carousel, it wasn’t ours. We went to the service desk, confident it was there … and it wasn’t. It was lost in a foreign country. They told us the tag must have slipped off. They repeatedly reassured us that they would find our black bag. Our bag was maroon.
I immediately began panicking. There were priceless items in that bag. There were things I needed right away. The airline seemed like they didn’t have a clue what was going on. Were my things lost forever?
I broke out into a sweat trying to remember everything I had packed. I went through the scenarios in my head and tried to figure out how I’d replace my belongings. Was I going to have to fight with the airline for reimbursement? The more I thought about it, the more my heart raced. I was working myself up into a frenzy.
And then, I got ahold of myself. I remembered: I believe in God.
As a believer, I know that everything happens for a reason, even if I don’t understand it. But being the logical person I am, I started coming up with possible reasons.
Daniel and I had trouble carrying all of our bags and pushing our two young daughters in their strollers. Perhaps God wanted to take the load off of us and personally deliver our luggage to our house.
Or, maybe in the future, my luggage is going to get lost again. If it happens now, I will know not to put priceless things in it the next time around. I will also get baggage insurance to prevent any further loss.
If anything, I thought, God was testing me to see if my faith was strong enough to survive losing a bag. I was determined to pass the test.
In the grand scheme of things, this wasn’t a big deal. I was safe and healthy and so was my family. We’d had a nice vacation, and aside from losing the bag, we were fine. I visualized being reunited with my bag the next day in Los Angeles. I thought about going through my things and putting them back in my drawers and storing my luggage in my garage.
I pushed the negative thoughts out of my head and I stopped worrying. I knew that worrying wouldn’t do me any good.
For the next day, I spent hours on the phone with the airline to figure out where the bag was. I unpacked my other luggage and didn’t think about my bag. I prayed to God multiple times that it would be returned to us. At the end of the day, I was told that my luggage was on the next flight to LA. Around midnight, Daniel went to LAX and got the bag. When I was reunited with my luggage, after 48 hours apart, I literally hugged some of the more precious items. I thanked God over and over.
I was so glad that I stopped myself from worrying those entire 48 hours. I freed up so much space in my head. I saved so much time. And, most importantly, I strengthened my faith.
I was so glad that I stopped myself from worrying those entire 48 hours. I freed up so much space in my head. I saved so much time. And, most importantly, I strengthened my faith.
God taught me a powerful lesson. There is no use in worrying, because I don’t have control over the outcome. Only God does. And whatever the outcome is, it’s for the best. I know that He’s controlling the show, and I’m only along for the ride.
I once saw a picture that said if you go through school with anxiety, you’re going to work with anxiety, date with anxiety, be married with anxiety, have kids with anxiety, etc. It never ends. Or, you could stop being anxious, not worry, put your faith in God and live.
I choose to live.
Want to share a story about faith with me? Email me at Kylieol@JewishJournal.com
Kylie Ora Lobell is the Community Editor of the Jewish Journal
