She hired a plumber to help her restore an old farmhouse, and he had just finished a rough first day on the job: a flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric drill quit, and his ancient one ton truck refused to start.
While she drove him home, he sat in stony silence.
On arriving, he invited her in to meet his family. As they walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands.
When opening the door, he underwent an amazing transformation. His tanned face was wreathed in smiles, and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss.
Afterward, he walked back to the car.
They passed the tree, and her curiosity got the better of her.
She asked him about what she had seen him do earlier.
“Oh, that’s my trouble tree,” he replied. “I know I can’t help having troubles on the job, but one thing’s for sure; those troubles don’t belong in the house with my wife and the children.
So, I just hang them up on the tree every night when I come home and ask God to take care of them.
Then in the morning, I pick them up again.
Funny thing is,” he smiled, “when I come out in the morning to pick ’em up, there aren’t nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before.”
Contributed by Dette Joven, Verbum, January 16, 2014