A Providential Hockey Puck

This past week I was about to leave my house to visit a friend of mine who has been in the hospital for about the past two months, and I had a thought to bring a hockey puck with me to give to my friend Stan. I ignored the thought not because I didn’t have a puck, but because it seemed kind of ‘dumb”.

I should probably tell you that I have at least twelve hundred pucks in one of our guest rooms affectionately named “the Hockey Lodge” (my granddaughter calls it “her bedroom” when she comes over), so taking one with me wouldn’t have been a problem.

As I drove to the hospital, once again the thought came to me that I should have taken a puck with me to give to Stan. I, once again, ignored the thought and continued on my journey.

I turned off the freeway to the freeway on which the hospital is located and had to stop because I noticed two things. First reason that I stopped was because the lights that controlled the traffic on the two freeways had turned red.

 

The second reason was because at the intersection I saw a hockey puck just in front on me on the freeway. A hockey puck; I’m telling you the truth, it was a hockey puck!

ALL year long I keep my eyes out for pucks, and anticipating finding them ALL year long, and seem to find them when no one else can. And, those who really know me also keep their eyes out for pucks to give me. Hint, hint, hint…

In fact, just last week at a graduation party someone came up to me and handed me three pucks from an anonymous donor. I added them to the one puck that Cathy brought home for me a few days before.

I stopped my truck and got out and picked up the puck and then got back in just before the lights turned green. I now had a puck to take to Stan!

I should probably add a legal disclaimer: "Professional puck collector on closed course. Do not attempt."

 In other words;

“Folks don’t do this because you are not supposed to do this. I am a professional hockey puck collector and have been trained how to stop at a traffic light, run out, pick up a puck, and get back into my truck before the lights change. It’s a gift; I can’t teach it to you”. Or, it is because I’ve smacked my head one too many times!

I arrived at the hospital carrying my puck and shared my story with Stan as we dialoged about the three stories in Luke 15 that Jesus told to let us know that there is a Father who is searching for each of us. We were both overwhelmed at His providence to the two of us.

As I was leaving, Stan asked me to hand him his Bible. He said that he wanted to take some time and re-read the three stories in Luke 15 of the “Lost sheep”, the “Lost Coin”, and the “Lost (prodigal) Son”. I gave him the Bible and then handed him the puck as a reminder of how much more we are worth searching for than any puck. He said that it was be a good reminder of the lost coin. I said goodbye and headed home.

I’ll admit that although I have seen a multitude of times the Heavenly Father provide for me in a similar way to this experience, I still don’t fully grasp it. But that’s OK for now; I am confident that He will continue to help me to understand.

For now, I rest in the fact that today, He DID provide for two people in a concrete way; even if it doesn’t fully make sense.

Jesus said that “your Father knows the things you have need of before you ask Him.” (Matthew 6:7 NKJV) and so I’ll keep asking, seeking, and finding His provision.