I Was on a 500-mile Bike Trip to Disneyland and Had Lost my Money

When I was 16 years old, I went on a 10-day bike trip from San Jose, CA to Disneyland in Southern California with a group of young men, young women, and adult leaders from our church. For a total of 500 miles, we journeyed in increments of 25-70+ miles a day on our bicycles (not motorcycles). I still think this was pretty incredible of an adventure to have gone on.

When we camped near Hearst Castle in San Simeon, I spent a little money at the store there. That’s the last time I remember having it. When I went to look for it later, I couldn’t find it anywhere. 

I was stressed. At this time in my life I didn’t have a lot of money. Neither did my mom. She had given me a little spending money for the trip and I had spent it carefully knowing that was all I had.

That night at the camp ground in San Simeon, I zipped myself into my sleeping bag and prayed for help to find the money. The next day, we had a very long and hot ride to San Luis Obispo. I still hadn’t found it. 

We stayed there for Sunday and went to church in town. On Monday, we rode to El Capitan State Beach. Before I went to bed that night, I asked again. Everyday we got closer to Disneyland. The money was all I had to spend when we got there, so I was seriously bummed that I might never find it. Still I held out some hope in my prayers.

The next morning, during that time between sleeping and waking, I had a dream. I saw a pair of my shorts and me putting the money in the pocket. 

When I woke up, I fished around in my duffle bag for the shorts. When I found them, I checked the pocket. I felt a small wad of bills and breathed a sigh of relief. Relief. Rejoicing relief. And gratitude. I was so grateful for the recovery of my money, but there was also something else. A kind of magical feeling. A tingling inside me. I knew that God was aware of me and that I was connecting with him.