I prayed over an electronic device today, and I’m writing this while standing in the forever-long Chipotle line.
It’s probably the most Generation Z I have ever felt and probably will ever feel when there is always a teenager two steps away to point out a gray hair or remind me that I better get married before cats eat my face. I don’t have a cat, but they are genuinely concerned.
Back to the electronic device. It’s true. All day I worried why our supposed-to-never-fail external backup would not connect. The campus expert assured my worry-wart self that it was indestructible. That’s what they said about the Titanic, bee-tee-dubs. Anyway, I began to panic. So I walked to the storage closet housing our little Buffalo (I don’t know who named it) and laid hands. It felt silly. It felt contrite. It felt insulting to put such a trivial thing on God’s to-do list, but after thirty seconds I pulled my hands away and the sickly blinking blue late burned a constant neon blue of health.
God healed my external hardware.
Even typing that feels silly. But I can’t sit here and deny that God fixed it. I stood there in awe and heard a whisper so sweet in my spirit reminding me that He is in the “little things.” If how I needed to see His sovereignty was in the healing of an electronic, then that’s How he would move.
I am thankful that He doesn’t have a triage system because His mercy and grace can and will cover it all. That’s hard for me. I triage. In everything, I make a to-do list of least to most important. My brain is forever befuddled that He only has one category: most important.