And remember Our servant Job,
when he called to his Lord,
“Satan has afflicted me with hardship and suffering.”
[…]
And We restored his family,
and their like with them;
as a mercy from Us and a reminder for those of understanding.
—The Qur’an - 38:41-43
My backpack was stolen the other night. Brand new Osprey with my phone, keys, and wallet inside. I was surfing at sunset, and when I got in after dark, it was gone. At least they left my sandals...
I was pissed. I got all, “Woe is me,” “I hate people,” “The world has gone to shit,” and I couldn’t sleep thinking about how much money and effort I’d spend replacing those things.
The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, while studying the Book of Job, philosophizing over why bad things happen to good people. As I lay in bed that night, seething, I reflected on all Job went through, losing everything, including his children and health. I, on the other hand, lost only a few material things that could easily be replaced, causing nothing more than an inconvenience that would pass within a few days. (I’m even smart enough to keep a spare car key under the tire well and a house key in a lockbox, so I wasn’t even locked out.) I did, however, feel a lesson bubbling up that I should have known all along: Don’t be so trusting of random strangers on the beach.
Except when I went back to the beach early the next morning to look for it one last time, I asked a fireman at the station across the street if he knew of any kind of Lost & Found. Or rather, I prefaced this would-be question with, “It’s likely my backpack was just stolen, but—”
“Come with me,” he cut me off, leading me into the garage. And there, sitting on a table between two fire trucks, was my backpack. “Some guy brought it in last night thinking it was left behind.” My hatred of mankind immediately melted. “Thank God for good people,” he said, “huh?”
Yes, well, something like that, Mr. Fireman.
Damn overly-ambitious do-gooders, leaving my sandals behind to get washed out to sea and whatnot. Thoughtless bastards...