I revisit this memory annually. It always causes me to evaluate my priorities.

Picture it.  February 14, 2002.  Victoria’s 7-year-old eyes scanned the loot on the kitchen table.  Pushing aside small white envelopes bearing her name, treat-filled plastic bags, and wrappers of the candy that didn’t survive the ride home, she reached for the large, red, heart-shaped box.

“Who’s this for?” she asked.

“Your Dad,” I said.

“Can I open it?”

“Well… okay. Just don’t lose the little map that lets you know where each type of candy is located.”

Michael doesn’t like surprises in life or in candy. He wants to know what’s in store for him before he sinks his teeth into it.

“I won’t lose it.”

Moments after she ripped the cellophane from the candy it had been protecting, Victoria found me in the study.

“I didn’t lose the map,” she whispered, “but I dropped the box and the candy fell out and I don’t know where any of it belongs.”

In her defense, I never told her not to drop the candy.  She followed me into the kitchen where we began to pick up the candy.

We attempted to return each piece to its proper place.  It was a difficult, except for the cashews.  It’s easy to spot a nut, even when it is covered in chocolate and trying to masquerade as a candy.

And so it is with life…

Sometimes we drop the box.  The pieces of our lives are then in disarray and suddenly we don’t know where anything belongs.  Spouses, children, jobs, ministries, unspoken dreams, friends, and even nutty relatives (sorry!) vie for our attention.

I am so grateful for God Who takes the scattered portions of my life and returns them to their proper place.  Even the nuts.

Ronny can be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com.