You blocked my way and shut the door through which I hoped to walk. You sent storms that swept away the old barn. A thief in the night stole my tools.
Lord, what calamity was on the other side of that door? Would the old barn have collapsed upon me in the morning? Is my current mastery stopping me from learning a new trade?
Are these afflictions, Lord, or gifts?
Thank you, friend, for saving me. Grant me the vision to see these feats of rescue for what they are.