parenting, personal, religion

Marijuana grow houses and divine providence

I talk a lot in life about how His ways aren’t always our ways. How just because something doesn’t turn out the way you want doesn’t mean it isn’t turning out the way it should. That applies not only to the big things in life, but sometimes to the small things too…

This past weekend we took the boys skating at a roller rink. I am 38 years old and truthfully hadn’t been on roller skates in over 25 years prior to Sunday. I was doing fine until I decided to take a lap around the rink without the kids slowing me down… and promptly fell flat on my arse 1/5 of a lap later. It hurt. Bad. Thankfully my iPhone was in my back pocket to break the fall (sort of). Thanks for saving my phone, Lifeproof (::waves::).

I hopped up, brushed myself off and kept on skating. I was a little sore, but I had to put on a good show for my boys. We fall, we get right back up and we keep on going. About four hours later I could barely move. I’m talking immense, sharp, shooting pain anytime I even breathed deep. I iced my back all night and went to the chiropractor the next morning. My hip was out of alignment (related: I am getting old).

Two days later I was still hurting so I made an appointment for a massage. The massage ran late (very late) and consequently I was forty minutes behind picking up my oldest from school. Now before you start calling Child Protection Services on me, the school has a fantastic after-care program that he went directly to. In fact the after-care is so much fun, Benji often asks (begs) for me to let him stay late. So don’t you judge me.

As I turned onto the school’s street I passed one of the teachers leaving. I parked and looked over at the building across from the school. My son’s school is on a dead-end, across from a large open field. In the middle of the field is a two-story building with no windows and a large bay door. It’s surrounded by a locked fence, numerous “Keep Out” signs, and until recently a large dog. And the building was on fire.

Not fully engulfed with cool orange flames, no. No where near that exciting. In fact at first I was trying to figure out what exactly would cause steam to rise from a roof like that. Then my former-cop brain must have kicked in because I thought “Gee, that’s not steam it’s smoke. Holy Guacamole that building is on fire!”

I called 911. Six fire engines, three fire trucks, the district chief, a police lieutenant and two patrol deputies later and the fire was out. Come to find out the building was being used as a marijuana grown house. It is right across the street from where my son goes to school.

So, how does all of this tie into divine providence? Easy. I was at Benji’s school for about an hour between calling 911, waiting for the fire department, watching the rescue personnel work and waiting for them to take my information for their report. No other parents came for their children in that time – in fact no cars drove down that road at all. The teacher who left as I pulled up noticed nothing unusual.

Had I not fallen, I would not have been hurt. Had I not been hurt, I would not have needed a massage. Had I not needed a massage, I would have been on-time to pick up my son. Had I been on-time, I would not have seen the smoke. Realistically, no one would of for at least an extra hour. Who knows how massive the fire would have been by then? Who knows what dangerous equipment was in there that could have exploded. Who knows how high the neighbors would have been? Did I mention I live two blocks away? MY GOD, THE MUNCHIES!

Everything in life has purpose. All things happen according to a plan. Every little detail — even the annoying ones you think are inconsequential — are not meaningless to HIM. Our ways are not His ways, and His ways are always so much better. So really, me being a crappy skater and falling, and a derelict mom who was getting a massage while I was supposed to be picking my kid up from school was divine providence. Like how I spun that?

——————

On an aside, how ironic is it that the retired narcotics detective discovered a grow house on fire? Four years gone and I’m still making cases!

Here is a not-very-impressive, crappy iPhone photo of the fire.

Here is a not-very-impressive iPhone photo of the fire.

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