Why Does Tragedy Have to Explode On An Otherwise Good Day?

Photo by Mary Vee

As a high school sophomore, playing flute in the marching band brought more enjoyment than any other class. We were outside. We had awesome uniforms. We laughed and showed off. Great times.

In the back of the auditorium and behind the curtain was a shelf for us to store our instruments. Seconds before needing to be out on the field one day, I went to the shelf and saw an empty space where my flute belonged. 

You probably can guess what happened next. My parents and teacher reported the theft to the police. The insurance didn't cover the replacement. My parents had to scrape together funds to buy me a new one....actually it was a new used one.

And the purpose of this trip down memory lane was....

Last week chefy daughter called. So distressed. Barely able to get the words out of her mouth. She'd stopped by her locker and found the padlock broken. She opened the door and found her uniform, required culinary shoes, textbook...and no knives. 

A chef's tool of trade is her knife set. When hired, he/she is expected to bring their own knives like a doctor is expected to have her own stethoscope. 

Chefy daughter had received an average set, paid by her tuition. The knives sat in a cloth lined container with a handle. As the students progressed in the program they were taught how to improve the quality of their knives using a sharpening method. She went early to school everyday and applied this skill. She won several contests for having the sharpest knives.

She wept. She had worked so hard and invested so much time into obtaining quality knives. The chef (instructor) called the police. He was driven to compassion and gave her one of his knives. Another instructor did the same. But two knives would not enable her to finish the program.

She sobbed, unable to think. I briefly told her the story of my flute, saying, I truly did understand. We bounced some ideas back and forth, one she could do right away. 

The problem hasn't been solved yet. She is working with the two hand-me-down knives. Maybe I'll update you later. 

For now--she knows that I am empathetic and here for her. And her instructor is understanding. He said she would not graded for the sharpness of her knives for the final this week, especially since she'd won several contests.

Our tragedies, healed by time, often enable us to help others trapped in the moment.

This is one of the reasons Jesus lived for thirty-three years before going to the cross. He spent his time not only as an example of what God wants us to be and to become our Savior, but also as one who experienced the trials and joys that we do. He truly understands.

If you are trapped in a moment, how can those of us here pray for you.
Were you able to help someone through their tragedy?

This post has been brought to you by the one word- Hetrulyunderstands

I had written this post last Saturday. Monday night, 2 hours before this post went live, chefy daughter called on her way home from evening culinary class. She said, "The students who were graduating this semester got together and gave me pieces from their knife kits." They gave her over ten knives. She said, "Mom I was speechless. They all wanted to help." She has been genuinely blessed by God.

Can I hear an Amen?

God really loves His kids.