Michael was fifty, and all the joy in his name had left him.
When he was a kid, he asked his mother about his name. “Why Michael?”
“Michael’s an Archangel,” she said. He knew that. “It’s your namesake. He’s gonna look out after you when things get rough. And, believe me, things are going to get rough.” He didn’t know that.
Things had been pretty good for him, so he never saw any reason for needing Michael. Until…
First there was the sinkhole. No problem. He had insurance.
Then there was the hurricane. He had insurance for that too.
The flooding? Insurance.
When he lost his business, he was getting the idea that somebody up there didn’t like him. There was no insurance for that.
Maybe it was time for Michael to step in.