Saga of the Missing Wallet

It was the last week of PIFM training in Berrien Springs. Wednesday night was beach night, and we weren't going to miss our last chance to swim in Lake Michigan! The birthday of our SM leader, Alicia, had past three days earlier. We hadn't done anything special. Today was the day: we were going to kidnap her!

We arrived at the beach a little early. We quickly placed our things in the usual place by the volley ball goals and headed for the water. What fun! After a grand frolic in the water, we went up for ice cream on the beach. Suddenly, there was the word: snugarmuffin. A sudden flurry of activity followed: Alicia was tied, blindfolded, and hustled into a waiting vehicle. The others followed in fast pursuit. No trial or jury awaited her. No court of law heard her appeals. She was taken directly to the cemetery. Finally, some in the group decided to have mercy. She was tied up again, put in the car, and carried to her final destination: a surprise birthday party and Michael's home.

Such fun was typical of our entire month of training. It was great! But that night, as we got into the cars, I came to an terrible realization: my wallet was lost. It had been in the pocket of my pants when we went down to the beach. When we came back, it was gone! I assumed, because of the hurry we had been in when we left, that it must have fallen out and somebody in our group picked it up. Nothing had been left on the beach. But after asking around, when it still did not turn up, I started to get concerned. Had it fallen out on the sand and gotten buried? The next morning several of us went back to the beach and dug around in the sand for it, but no luck. The wallet was gone.

By the afternoon, I had pretty much given up hope of finding the wallet. It was obvious that no one in our group had it, and it wasn't on the beach. I decided to call the bank and at least cancel my debit card. I almost called my parents in Kentucky, but I decided against it at the last minute. What could they do? All I could do was tell them, and give them something else to worry about. Or so I thought.

Thursday evening. My family hasn't heard from me in over a week. They know I'm at training, but I haven't called them in a while. My dad comes home to find a message on the answering machine. It's a guy from Michigan. The message says, "We've found a wallet belonging to Daniel McFeeters. It was floating in Lake Michigan." Well, needless to say, he suddenly becomes concerned about my whereabouts. He looks up the number for Andrews University, calls the number, but can't reach me. He leaves a message for me, and waits...

That evening, our last evening together, we went out to eat as a group. After dinner, while we did a little shopping, Alicia received a phone call on her cell phone. It was Eddie, my roommate. He had just gotten back and got a message passed on from my Dad that a gentleman had found my wallet!

Well, needless to say, we were excited. As soon as we could get back, I called him and arranged to pick up the wallet in St. Joseph that evening. Apparently he and his family were on the beach Thursday afternoon when one of his children found the wallet floating in the lake. They looked inside and found my name. Thinking that it couldn't have been long since I lost the wallet, they started walking up and down the beach, calling my name. But of course, I had left the beach long before. So, when they got back to their hotel room, they called my home number.

I drove back to St. Joe (without a license!) to get my wallet. I found the room, and had a short conversation with the gentleman. He told me a little about where he found the wallet, and I told him my side of the story. I mentioned that I had prayed about finding the wallet, and that this was an answer to my prayer. I had also mentioned that I was training to be a missionary with AFM. After a short chat, he gave me my wallet and I thanked him and headed back to the dorm to get some sleep. (I still had no idea what my parents were going through.) The next morning, early, my Dad called me in my dorm room and you can only imagine the conversation... I assured him that I had not drowned in Lake Michigan!

Well, I was very thankful to have my wallet again (although the cash was missing). Apparently someone had found the wallet in my clothes on the beach, took the cash, and threw the wallet into the lake. One of the people at training kindly cashed a check for me so I had money to drive home. I started classes as soon as I got back, and didn't think much else about the incident.

The next Wednesday, exactly a week after I had lost my wallet, I received a phone call. It was the man who had found my wallet. He reminded me what I had said to him about answered prayer, and he said "I also believe in prayer." He then asked if I was a Seventh-Day Adventist. When I said "Yes," he replied, "Well, I'm a Catholic, and I have a question for you." He started off by asking about the canonization of the Bible, and the authority of the church versus the authority of the Bible. We talked for about 40 minutes, discussing various points of belief. He also told me a little more about how his children had found my wallet and he had looked for me on the beach. I got his e-mail address and I plan to follow up on our conversation soon.

So, why did I lose my wallet? I don't know. Perhaps it was my carelessness in leaving it on the beach while I was swimming. But I believe that God had His hand in it. Actually, I'm glad I lost my wallet!

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. -- Romans 8:28