Three phone calls. Three emotional bombs that shattered my life.
A week later, I sat surrounded by the fallout, trying to make sense of it all. “I’m so confused, God. How could You let this happen?” Pushing the papers aside, I pulled my journal across the desk. Maybe writing about it would help. I started by listing the phone calls.
“Hayley, I’ve been retrenched.”
“Mrs Baxter, your son’s been in an accident.”
“Honey, Dad’s been diagnosed with cancer.”
Words started to flow from my pen.
It’s not fair, God. You said all things work together for good but I don’t understand how. I’m sitting here surrounded by medical bills that add up to thousands and at the end of the month, Simon will be unemployed. What’s going to happen to us? What will happen if we lose the house? And what about Matthew? Will he regain full use of his leg? I hate to see him wired up with pulleys and ropes. He’s too small, too young to bear such a burden.
I paused to drag an angry fist across my eyes.
And why did you let Dad get sick? He’s only fifty-five. Surely You could give him another decade, not just a couple of months? Why, God, why? I really believed the scripture you gave me a few weeks ago.
I flipped back through my journal and read aloud. “For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for a hope and a future.”
“Mommy.” Ben was sobbing as he ran down the passage. My stomach clenched. How much more could go wrong?
“I’m in the study, Ben.”
I closed my journal but continued to question God. “I’m really confused, Lord. Nothing is making sense at the moment. Are you doing something in our lives or is this an attack from the enemy? Please help me understand what’s happening.”
Ben burst into the room, clutching a toy against his chest. “It broke Mommy. My kaleidoscope broke.”
“Oh, Sweetie. Bring it here. Let me see if I can fix it.” Grubby hands spilled kaleidoscope bits all over my desk. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s get you some cookies and milk and you can have a snack while I put this back together.”
A few minutes later, I set the pieces out and realised it was a minor problem. The clear plastic cap had popped off the end, spilling ragged fragments of plastic. I ran my fingers across the transparent splinters of gold, crimson and sky as I heard a quiet whisper in my soul.
“Look and listen.”
“Is that You, God?”
I cupped the plastic bits in my palm and lifted them to eye level. Could this confusion of plastic really create amazing beauty? I tipped them into place and snapped the cap into position.
“Listen to what I am saying.”
The patterns were exquisite. Jewels of cascading light. Illuminated stars and snowflakes. Graceful swirls and glittering octagons. Each twist brought a new design and formation.
“The bits haven’t changed. Only your viewpoint.”
I was still gazing into the kaleidoscope when Ben came running in. “Is it fixed, Mommy? Is it working again?”
“As good as new.”
He ran off happy as I opened my journal to continue writing.
I understand God. You can take the rough, ugly things in my life, the fragments of confusion and turn them into something beautiful. The things that have happened are hard. I still don’t understand them, but I believe you can bring good from them.
I felt a peace flood my heart as I penned the last line of my entry, a prayer to God.
Lord, I pray you always help me to look at life with kaleidoscope eyes.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.