When you stop asking "why?"

A text message at 7pm one evening and about ten minutes later a student shows up at my door. Apparently all she wanted to do was chat, about our families, about the weather, about food, about hobbies. Something more urgent never came up. She left as quickly as she came in order not to be late for the evening study hall the students are required to attend.

A canceled lunch appointment makes for a potentially very low key tomorrow, until the realization strikes several hours later that my lunch appointment was wrong to begin with when my dear nun friend sends a message proclaiming that tomorrow is her only day off kitchen duty, and thus our only chance to get together.

A knock at my classroom door by my Chinese supervisor leaves me with another camera man taking more pictures of me teaching. Perhaps it was my willingness to be the school mascot yet again that made the following conversation with him possible: “Kelly I hope that you have no travel plans for the dragon boat holiday because then your dream can come true, and I will cook noodles for you and Jenn.”

One afternoon spent helping a middle school daughter of a colleague practice English by basically just meeting and having a conversation with her, sharing one of my coveted Snickers Nutcrackers, and lending the book “My Teacher is an Alien” (I knew there was a reason I brought that bad boy all the way from America) gets me an invitation to join her and her family for some Tibetan Opera, whatever that is.

Why do these things happen and what is their purpose? I have long stopped asking because I know that the answer rests safe with Him.