It was 4:30, half an hour from my paper-due-date, and after five printings on the one and only wearily-working library printer I dashed off and deposited the manuscript safely at my professor’s door. And then it was on to the next paper.
Back in the library I industriously researched, lining up five JSTOR critical essays to print off. It was 4:50. I clicked the button to print off the first article—and several boxes popped up asking me to accept this-and-that list of legal conditions.
Suddenly a heavy wave of exhaustion flooded over me. I didn’t click the accept button. I went limp as a day-old-daisy in the chair and stared at the screen, unmoving, for fully 30-60 seconds.
What brought me out of my revelry was a sudden onslaught of anxious exclamations from behind me. There—hovering around the one working printer—was a crowd of eight or ten people—all frantically trying to print off (and sort through) their papers before their 5 o’clock deadline.
I had to smile. God hadn’t wanted me printing me just then.
So student, somewhere—who got your paper in on time by the skin of your teeth: just know you could have been waiting for my 30-85 pages of research to print off.
So know that God manages even the little things, because He cares for you.