Coffee, Contacts, and Canine Roadblocks: When Chaos is Protection

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” — Psalm 46:1 (MSG)

Today didn’t start out like every other day.

I woke up with my eyes on fire. I’m talking burning, watering, can-barely-squint levels of pain. I wasn’t sure what was going on until I realized my eye doctor had mislabeled my contacts. I’d been wearing my right lens in my left eye and my left lens in my right eye—because apparently, chaos likes to start small.

Already running late (which is practically a crisis for someone like me who plans my drive down to the minute), I grabbed my gym bag and stumbled into the kitchen—where I promptly tripped. On air. Just… fell. Coffee everywhere. Thankfully, the mug survived, but the contents? All over me, my gym bag, and the floor.

I looked up in disbelief, only to discover my coffee maker had joined the rebellion—coffee, grinds, and what I can only describe as bean shrapnel were scattered across my counter.

So I texted my sweet boss to let her know I was going to smell like a Folgers factory and be a little late. At this point, I should have known this wasn’t just an off day—it was a rerouting.

By the time I hit the road, I was already feeling flustered. The time change had messed with the sun’s position, and if you’ve ever driven hilly country roads with the sun blasting directly into your eyeballs, you know it’s like driving blindfolded—but spicier.

Sure enough, I peaked a hill only to slam on my brakes as a Rottweiler appeared smack in the middle of the road. He gave me the most judgmental side-eye, like I was in his way. Once again, coffee went flying, my purse, water jug, computer bag—everything.

And instead of losing my temper and making everyone around me miserable (as I’ve admittedly done before), I kept my peace. I didn’t lash out. I didn’t spiral. And I didn’t cry in my car, feeling guilty about how I treated people.

And I’m glad I did.

When I finally reached the freeway—now crawling at a snail’s pace—I passed a five-car pileup. Judging by the timing, that accident had probably happened right about the time I would’ve been on the freeway had my contacts not been switched, had my coffee not exploded, had Mr. Rottweiler not staged his roadblock.

It hit me: what if those chaotic moments weren’t random at all? What if they were God’s protection—delays designed to keep me out of harm’s way?

I don’t know what was waiting for me down the road, but God did. That alone was enough to give me peace. Trusting Him means knowing that even the frustrating moments serve a purpose, even when they don’t make sense in the moment. His protection isn’t always obvious, but it’s always there.

Today, I’m thankful—for my switched contacts, my coffee-stained gym bag, the traffic, and that Rottweiler with the attitude. Because even in the mess, God’s goodness shows up—often in ways we don’t see until later.

My Prayer:

Lord, thank You for Your protection — even when it feels inconvenient or frustrating. Help me to trust Your timing and Your plan, knowing that You see what I can’t. Remind me to keep my heart calm and my words kind when life gets messy. Thank You for turning my chaotic mornings into opportunities for gratitude.

In Jesus Name,

Amen.