The Smallest Piece of Sand

Two days ago, as I walked across campus, a strong wind came out of nowhere and blew tiny debris into my face. Even though I was wearing my glasses, a small piece of sand or dirt hit my eye. It quickly settled into my socket and under my lid so that pain was very near. I continued walking to my first of two appointments in the homes that afternoon, gently rubbing, expecting it to easily surface and come out as I was accustomed to. By the time I arrived at the house, though, my eye was bright red, and I was still in pain. I took a few minutes in the bathroom to no avail trying to remove the  tiny, unseen pest. I decided to just moved on with my staffing in the home trying to ignore my twitching eye that had now begun to run.  Tears were pouring from the eye and sliding down my cheek.  I had to explain to each youth that I was not crying but had something stuck in my eye.  The same situation was repeated when I had to move on to the next home where I still could not remove the pesky spec from my eye.  My tear ducts were being so successful in producing tears that it was now making my nose run and all kinds of other fun things.  It was not until late that evening when I got home and was able to give my full attention to my eye that I was finally able to rid myself of the pain.  The hours the nussaince had taken residence in my eye left my eye puffy and swollen the next day leaving me indebted to explain to everyone I saw that I was not beaten or plagued with Pink Eye.  It wasn't until today, though, as I was putting lotion under my eye and realizing the puffiness had finally all gone away and there was no soreness left that I saw how much God had cared about that tiny, insignificant piece of sand.  The sand had caused a disturbance and some pain, but I had never would have considered it or anything like it ANY of God's concern.  It's just part of this earth.  And part of the days we live on it.  But no, God, as always had gone before me.  My body was specifically engineered to continue producing tears when a foreign object is in my eye to push it out and to lubricate my eyeball until it leaves.  What a beautiful and loving portrait of a father.  Going before my pain, going before my needs and making provisions for what I even percieve to be the smallest things.  God cared about that tiny spec of sand in that moment and before it ever hit my eye.  How much more does it care about everything else I try to handle on my own in this daily journey of life.