Time is a-falling
I was sleeping soundly last night after a long but productive day when Time suddenly shattered to a million little pieces in the middle of the night.
The nice red robot clock I have in my bedroom just fell from the wall and broke into smithereens on the floor. It made such a loud crashing and disturbing noise that my parents rushed from their bedroom to see what was going on. I was also already awake and I knew immediately that it was my clock that dropped from the wall because the first time I did (and do when I open my eyes after I wake up) was to check for the time. But this time, Time was missing.
As I tried to slumber back to sleep with the pieces of the clock still uncleared from the floor (I might not have known what the time was, but I knew that there would be tomorrow morning to clear the mess) a few thoughts came into my mind. The first was a sense of thankfulness at the timing at which it happened, for it could have well happened when I was sitting right beneath the clock, because it was just poised above where I normally sit and do work on my laptop in my room. I noticed a strange thing as well in this. There were a special glass cup and a clay pot which I made and my sandstone aromatherapy burner on the ledge just below the clock. I have no way of knowing how the clock fell, but anyone viewing the crime scene afterwards must have guessed that it would need pass that way to take those three objects along with it on its suicide journey to smithereens-hood on the floor. Yet they were all unscathed and remained intact, still sitting prettily on the shelf. But perhaps the most interesting observation that came to my mind last night as I laid in bed amidst broken glass was the clear memory that this have happened before. And indeed it had. Just a week or so ago, I was at my friend’s house, helping her daughter to prepare for her Primary Four year-end exam when the glass clock on the wall behind me fell and shattered to the floor. Yes, in a million little pieces as well, this time missing my head by a whisper. I could really feel the side of the clock brush past me as it made its journey downward. Yet I was similarly unharmed.
All these just remind me once again of God’s wonderful and invisible protecting hand in the lives of His children. I recall Psalm 91 where it says: “A thousand may fall at your side, / And ten thousand at your right hand; / But it shall not come near you.” God will not allow the pestilence that walks in darkness, nor the destruction that lays waste at noonday to touch those who love Him. On two simple, and perhaps trivial but nonetheless enlightening incidents, I saw this invisible hand made visible.