10.15- The Ease of Ingratitud
10.15-
The Ease of Ingratitude Randy Kilgore
Thwip, thwap, thwip, thwap.
The windshield wipers slamming back and forth trying to keep up with the pelting rain only added to my irritation as I adjusted to driving the used car I had just purchased – an old station wagon with 80,000+ miles and no side-impact airbag protection for the kids.
To get this station wagon, and some badly needed cash for groceries, I had sold the last “treasure” we owned: a 1992 Volvo station wagon with side-impact airbag protection for the kids. By then, everything else was gone. Our house and our savings had all disappeared under the weight of uncovered medical expenses from life-threatening illnesses.
“Okay, God,” I actually said out loud, “now I can’t even protect my kids from side-impact crashes. If anything happens to them, let me tell you what I’m going to do . . .”
Thwip, thwap, thwip, thwap. (Gulp.)
I was instantly ashamed. In the previous 2 years God had spared both my wife and my son from almost certain death, and yet here I was whining about “things” I had lost. Just like that I’d learned how quickly I could grow ungrateful to God. The loving Father, who did not spare His own Son so I could be saved, had actually spared my son in a miraculous fashion.
“Forgive me, Father,” I prayed.
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