Thank God For Broken Fingers


I was thrilled that my son found a full-time job working in the great outdoors. He would rather perish than sit behind a desk. The weekend before he began traveling the Mississippi River tying barges together, he went on a camping trip and returned home with a swollen, bruised and useless finger.

“You’ll need a work release before I can put you on a boat,” his employer informed him.

I brought my son to the doctor hoping for the best. It’s only one finger, he could still work I reasoned. The doctor didn’t think so. The bone had rotated out of its joint. Even though his fellow campers had pulled the bone back into joint, it would take four to six weeks to heal.

No employer would hold a job open for four to six weeks, especially for an untrained new hire. My son had already quit his job at a sandwich shop, and now he was officially unemployed. I saw a disaster and so did God, but we were looking at different disasters.

Sometimes I think life would be less stressful if we knew what God knows. God knew the towing company that hired my son used unlicensed people to operate their tugs. God foresaw the tugboat turning in front of a ship creating an environmental and economic disaster. God also knows how the events will affect the lives and careers of those involved.

I thank God for the broken finger that cost my son his job. He might have been on the boat that caused the accident. I don’t know, but God did.


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