It's an on-going saga for me: G-d speaks through deeds and I try to listen. Today, the one-sided conversation was pedal to the medal.
Right after putting my bike in its locker on campus, I went to watch the news broadcast by the library. Like nearly everyone else paying attention, I was estatic over the Chilean miners' rescue, and during rescue downtime, I went upstairs to my office. That's when I noticed it.
My fanny pack was ripped. Blessed be He that kept all my junk inside it, because it was torn open on the side.
So I improvised and wore my pack like a sling, ripped side up. Oh well, I told myself, what do you expect from a garage sale.
Right after statistics class, when I was looking right in the eye of some serious "between class" downtime, my backpack's left harness buckle broke. That meant I had to wear it like a toga - thank G-d for the waist belt.
Last but not least, my watch band snapped in my final class for the day.
So what's the message? With every mishap, there was a saving grace: the fanny pack became a sling, the backpack a toga. The watch went in my pocket. Things worked out and I blessed G-d for it.
Perhaps the Creator wanted me to pick my head out of my books and appreciate what I have. Okay, G-d, you've got my attention.