He's In the Details
A house literally exploded in a little town not far from Buffalo. A propane leak was the culprit.
It happened on a night when two of the children in the family were staying elsewhere but there were too many family members home regardless.
A young girl was killed in the explosion. It's a wonder they all weren't.
"Isn't that awful?" the woman ahead of me in line said as she watched my eyes dance across the horrible words.
I sort of grunted in affirmation. Of course it was horrible.
What did she expect me to say? That I actually thought it was sort of cute?
"They go to bed and boom, they wake up in the street. You tell me that there's a God."
I laughed.
"God doesn't cause propane leaks," I said.
The woman answered me, but I was sort of done listening to her. I was too busy imagining God in a long white gown sneaking into that house through a window, opening up the valve that controls the level of propane.
Our little encounter was over but I sort of listened into the story as it unfolded over the next few days.
As it turned out, we were both wrong. God didn't turn the valve leaking more of the gas into the home, but He was there in the moments following.
The people of the Town of Wilson went to the scene of the explosion. They carried heavy hearts as they sifted through the debris. They built a memorial to the young girl. They brought money and clothes and food.
They brought God with them and dumped Him at the feet of that family.
Yep, it's horrible. We all imagine the scene. We wonder how tragic it is to lose someone we love.
We've been there, and it makes our hearts ache.
Because God is there.
In the details.
It happened on a night when two of the children in the family were staying elsewhere but there were too many family members home regardless.
A young girl was killed in the explosion. It's a wonder they all weren't.
"Isn't that awful?" the woman ahead of me in line said as she watched my eyes dance across the horrible words.
I sort of grunted in affirmation. Of course it was horrible.
What did she expect me to say? That I actually thought it was sort of cute?
"They go to bed and boom, they wake up in the street. You tell me that there's a God."
I laughed.
"God doesn't cause propane leaks," I said.
The woman answered me, but I was sort of done listening to her. I was too busy imagining God in a long white gown sneaking into that house through a window, opening up the valve that controls the level of propane.
Our little encounter was over but I sort of listened into the story as it unfolded over the next few days.
As it turned out, we were both wrong. God didn't turn the valve leaking more of the gas into the home, but He was there in the moments following.
The people of the Town of Wilson went to the scene of the explosion. They carried heavy hearts as they sifted through the debris. They built a memorial to the young girl. They brought money and clothes and food.
They brought God with them and dumped Him at the feet of that family.
Yep, it's horrible. We all imagine the scene. We wonder how tragic it is to lose someone we love.
We've been there, and it makes our hearts ache.
Because God is there.
In the details.
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