The Box

My daughter called on Friday evening. That's her time to call.  She wasn't happy or feeling that she was getting the right help. I'm still thinking about what she said, and trying to figure out how to react. Anyway, near the end of the call, she asked if I could send her a package of a few items she need (pair of jeans, favorite flip flops, tropical trail mix, things like that).  So, I wrote down the items as she listed them, and we hung up.  As I went around the house looking for the items that were here (others I would stop by the store in the morning before mailing the package) I started thinking of a size of box to mail it all in.  I went to the basement, and there, sitting on a chair was the perfect size box.  Last Christmas I bought a tea pot for a friend, and it came to my house in that box.  I usually throw them out, but this one I kept.  Even this summer, when I was cleaning the basement and throwing out stuff, I obviously kept the box for some reason. 

As I was packing the items, I started thinking about the box.  It's not that it was an earth shattering moment to have the box (though it was the perfect size and it did save me time and a little money from having to buy one).  Or maybe it was.  As I was packing it dawned on me, "Had that box been kept there because God knew this moment was going to happen, and by a succession of events- my friend needing a tea pot, me buying one for a present, and then discarding the box into the basement to wait for this exact moment-God was preparing me for packing these items for my daughter?  If that is the case, then this moment is what is supposed to be happening and we really are where we are supposed to be for a reason.  Honestly, my first thought was to get a little mad.  This was planned for my daughter to hurt like this?  But then, just as quickly, I thought, even with a strong faith (or a growing faith) life wasn't promised to be easy.  The promise, I believe, is that God will carry you through it.  The box is just a reminder that God is planning and caring and watching.  We buzz through life, and get all caught up in things, but in those close, quiet moments when we get a chance to think, and start to organize, a box shows up to remind us we are not alone in this. 

That thought is a hesitant comfort for me.  Hesitant because I wish none of this was happening to any one, and my faith is not yet strong, enough, in the truth that God does love me, but a comfort that I can see the message, and even as I come to terms with God's love, He's still setting up boxes long the way.