“OK, guys,” my 11-year-old son Harrison hugged Corinne and me, “you better get on the road.” His newfound independence at his first summer camp made us smile.
The next evening the phone rang. “Mr. Kidd, this is Betty from Camp Nacome. Harrison slipped off a rock ledge and broke his arm. We’re on our way to the hospital.”
When Corinne and I arrived at the emergency room, Harrison’s first words were, “Dad, do I still get to go back to camp?”
“I’m sorry, son,” the nurse said sympathetically. “You’ll need to go home with your folks and take it easy.”
Harrison’s long-anticipated week at camp was over. On the way home, a very disappointed boy asked, “Why did God let this happen?”
Corinne, a real trouper in her new parenting role, cleared her throat. “I don’t know, Harrison. But maybe God can use it for good.”
As the days went by, Harrison managed to keep a great attitude. He especially enjoyed sporting the many signatures he had collected on his cast. One night at dinner he asked to do the prayer. “God, thank You for letting me break my arm. I don’t know why You didn’t want me to finish camp, but I’m awfully thankful for all the people who love me on my cast.”
I smiled to Corinne as Harrison said, “Amen.” As we dug into our homemade casserole, I was reminded to look for God’s good in a recent disappointment in my own life.
Father, give us the wisdom to turn every affliction into something good.