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Smoke Signals

This has been the week (actually, year, but worse this week than in a long, long time) from h-e-double hockey sticks (gotta keep this site G-rated). My daughter had to go to the ER last night (she’s fine). My older son has been acting up at school. A project suddenly fell apart. I wish it was an April Fool’s joke, but it is not. A friend sent this and I want to pass it on as I am sure many could use a little encouragement.
The only survivor of a shipwreck was washed up on a small, uninhabited island. He prayed feverishly for God to rescue him, and every day he scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed forthcoming. Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood to protect him from the elements,
and to store his few possessions. But then one day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find his little hut in flames, the smoke rolling up to the sky. The worst had happened; everything was lost. He was stunned with grief and anger. “God, how could you do this to me!” he cried.
Early the next day, however, he was awakened by the sound of a ship that was approaching the island. It had come to rescue him. “How did you know I was here?” asked the weary man of his rescuers.
“We saw your smoke signal,” they replied.