Am I lucky, or is it fate...?

Wow. If today didn't teach me something about prayer, then I think God will deafen me next time.

So it turns out I'm still incredibly bad at leaving important things in obscure places. My wallet spent a lovely after in a cafe in Lulworth Cove the other afternoon after I put it on the counter to pay for some (very much Dorset) Purbeck icecream. Today it was the turn of my rucksack, which got left on the 8.52 from Putney to London Waterloo.

Immediate flashbacks to leaving my sports kit on the bus aged 13 came back to haunt me. The process of getting it back was a rather simple affair of driving to Tring to the bus depot (my Mum was driving, in case you were wondering). This time though, the bag was lost on the South West Trains network, a system so complex that the staff at Waterloo had no way of telling where the train was now, or what route it was taking. The stakes were also mammothly higher - my passport, wallet, keys and work security pass were all in the there, and we're due to fly to Tennessee tomorrow for a wedding.

It's hard to describe the range of emotions that I felt at that point. Incredulity turned into anger turned into disappointment and back into anger, and these have swirled around my head all day. I tried everything I could (including contacting the control office for Network Rail and getting them to try), but nothing was working. It wasn't really anything to do with the cost of the plane ticket, I have insurance for that. Worse was the horrible experience of realising that I'd seriously let down the person I love the most. I hated realising that this flaw in my character was hurting her, and that I hadn't really learnt from past experiences. Perhaps I was being harsh on myself, but as our pastor said on Sunday, "if you fall, fall forwards". I know mistakes are easily made (and less easily forgotten), but it felt too much.

Dejectedly, I decided to try Waterloo one last time. I headed to the Lost Property office - nothing there. Then up to the platforms, where I try one of the guards hut. He not only knew about the bag, but he knew where it was! Turns out it had only been handed in a matter of minutes before - almost 7 hours after being left on a train (security is obviously really high these days). It was at the ticket office. The (very nice) man there tried to insist that I had to wait until it had been processed by lost property, but I insisted harder, and common sense prevailed. I am now reunited with my bag! What's more, I was only a few more minutes away from them destroying my credit cards and passport as a matter of company policy and compliance with the law.

I think the most positive reaction I had to this whole situation today has been to pray, and pray hard. My prayers have ranged from the despairing ("how could I be so STUPID?"), to the incredulous ("Lord why does this always happen?"), to the downright desperate ("Lord PLEASE!"). In the middle of it I was aware that it felt slightly stupid to pray "please can I have my bag back", which I assumed needed a small miracle, when there are much bigger things for God to worry about, like famine and floods and abuse.

I think I'm often tempted to think like the small things (in relative terms) are my issue, and God deals with the big stuff. Yet God constantly shows himself to be interested in the relatively small to prove just how good He is. I've been aware since getting the bag back that this was small-fry for God, and yet He seems apparently willing and able to provide for me. Ok, this isn't a 'proof' that prayers works, yet I can't help smiling at the fact that on the bus on the way to Waterloo I said to God "Lord this is my last chance, please let it be there", and even texted Shan the words "last chance saloon coming right up". Turns out that during that prayer/text, my bag was being handed in. God's timing and sense of humour is wonderful (and this isn't the first time it's happened, if you're wondering) and deliciously ironic.

I'm also aware that this doesn't answer bigger questions - why doesn't God answer our prayers for healing, or reconciliation, or peace, or justice? Is He content with acts of power that seem like party tricks compared to what we really want to see happen? I can't help remembering that in fact, God answered my prayer at least partly through other people: the person who found my bag and didn't steal it, and the staff at Waterloo who slightly broke company policy to give me my stuff back. Prayers often work like that - it constantly amazes me that He chooses us to see more good in the world.

Finally, it's a massive challenge to see prayer as the powerful weapon that it is, and to use it as if I really believe that to be true. Do I believe that the lame will walk, the blind see, the poor set free from bondage and salvation come to those who utterly hate God, or am I content to pray hard only when it's my neck on the line? Perhaps it's a good way to start, but I want to see my prayer life grow in maturity and expectation, and to enjoy God's hand in my life and the life of those around me.