So, I’ve got about two weeks before I fly out to Haiti, and I figure I ought to start packing. Or at least think about packing. My Bible and a toothbrush are at the top of the list. (I had to do without them for three days once, and it was not amusing.) Third in line is . . . well, unmentionables. They’re very important. Invented sometime after the Dark Ages and highly essential, depending on who you ask.
So, my plan was to go to the store and start checking off my list. Of which, unmentionables was at the very top. I forgot to factor in God’s generosity. It never entered my mind that He’d care to cross my list off for me.
This last week was the end of the school year at Nebraska Christian. The dorm girls I’ve been studying, eating, and playing with all year are packing. Did I say packing? That might be an understatement. They are cramming and stuffing and squeezing and crushing their belongings into every last inch of their suitcases and cardboard boxes. But even they can’t fit it all in. So, we’ve started a pile. Let’s call it Mount Everest. It’s a stack of all the things they’ve acquired while here that won’t be making the trip back home.
I’ve seen the stack. It’s quite impressive. But some things never make it to the mountain. Some things get handed straight to me. Like a couple beautiful Chinese silk scarves. Skeins and skeins of colorful yarn. Pens. Chopsticks. And . . . unmentionables. Still in the box. Brand new. Never opened.
Guess what I’m taking to Haiti with me?
I never knew traveling could seem so like walking into the living room on Christmas morning. I’m not paying for my plane ticket or my food or a place to stay. The dorm girls have been randomly handing me money - anywhere from pennies to one hundred dollar bills - ever since they heard I’d be seeing orphans down there. And now even the unmentionables are taken care of! I’m impressed. Who ever said God wasn’t concerned with the details?
