I was busily getting things out of the car so we could get down to the beach.  It was a gloriously warm afternoon.  We were on holidays in Spain and had been in the car all day.  We were all ready for the water.   As I was pulling bags from the car one of the kids gasped while another said, “I can’t believe he just did that!”.  I turned around to see what was causing the commotion and saw a very old-looking man walking away from a car.  My wife said, “He’s just taken the keys out of that car”.

I hadn’t seen what happened but the rest of my family did.  The owner of the car had left the windows were open.  The man was walking away from the car in a hurried manner.  He was old and used a walking stick – so even though it was clear he was trying to walk quickly he wasn’t making speedy progress.   My wife repeated what she’d seen and, with an authority that only wives can muster, resolved that something must be done.  Her brave conclusion was that I had to stop him and get the keys back.

It was all a bit surreal.  This was a small car park beside a beach.  It was in the middle of the afternoon.  I hadn’t seen the man take anything.  I just wanted to go swimming.

With my wife’s increasing determination, and my children watching to see how I would handle the situation, I knew I had to do something.  I searched my memories to see if I could remember confronting a thief who was caught in the act.  I wasn’t sure what I would say to him.  I know enough Spanish to get by on a family holiday.  Uno momento…. La quinta por favour…. Gracias….  But I hadn’t learned anything like: “Excuse me sir, but did you just take something from that car?”   It simply never occurred to me that I’d need to use such a sentence on my holiday.

Still unsure of what I would say, I made my way toward the man.  I intercepted his haltingly rapid exit and, pointing at the car, asked him (in English) if he had taken something from the car.   Muttering something in Spanish he looked from me, to the car and back to me.   I hesitated because I didn’t know what he was saying, but he just stood there looking at me.  It was clear to me he didn’t speak English but I pressed on.  Once again I pointed at the car and then to him and then back to the car while asking him if he took something from the car.  Whatever was going through his mind he seemed to know what I was saying because he took a set of keys from his pocket and handed them to me.  He continued mumbling untranslated Spanish as he turned away and resumed his hasty retreat.

My wife & I found the car’s owner and explained what had happened as we returned the keys.  On the walk to the beach we reminded our kids of how it didn’t matter that we didn’t speak the same the language because the man knew he had done something wrong.  I told them that knowledge of right and wrong is not restricted to English or Spanish – it is understood within the language of the heart.

As we spoke to them I was reminded of a recent time of prayer.  I’d been reading Luke 1.17 which speaks of the “disobedient being drawn to the wisdom of the righteous”.  I had asked God to teach me about a wisdom that would cause the disobedient to seek out the righteous.  What level of wisdom would it take for those who are disobedient to be drawn to, attracted to the righteous?  As is typical for me, I presumed I would need to tap into some higher level of wisdom or some yet unexplored level of divine creativity that would cause the disobedient to experience an “Ah-Ha” moment.

But this experience with the Spanish man and the car keys was not some mystical feat of divine engineering.  It was a simple matter of right and wrong.  God used it to teach my children.  He used it to teach me.  I hope the old man has learned a lesson too!  The bonus for me is that this was not only an answer to my prayer – but it is an illustration of how God intends for His people to display His wisdom (Eph 3.10) in such a way that those who don’t yet know him would be drawn to him (Lk 1.17).