My younger brother was in an accident yesterday.

He was crossing the street to go to school and a speeding motorcycle hit him. He fell on the opposite side of the road where a taxi almost ran over him.

He told me about the accident around noon. It happend early in the morning.

I rushed home to check on him. He has a few scratches, a sore body and a badly sprained ankle. Other than that, he's ok.

My heart stopped when I found out. But then after hearing his story, I was put a bit at ease by the fact that God's hand was still there. Had the taxi been speeding as well, my brother could have died. But God made that taxi stop in time and gave my brother enough strength to attend his class and get home.

That was all I could think about last night. What could have happened if God was not there. Then I remembered how my older brother also met an accident when I was in my senior year in college. The jeepney he was riding was hit by a truck. It was late at night, I was still in school.

I rushed to go to the hospital and found my brother in the ER. He only had a few scratches. I was able to pay for the bill because I had my field trip money with me. God's hand was there too.

You know how your parents always tell you not to put your hand out the window? Well, my brother was resting his arm on the jeep's window. And just about the second he put his arm inside, the truck hit that side. Imagine what could have happened if he kept his arm rested there.

Brings me back to when the airport was bombed. It was the same time my parents were coming home from Manila. A family friend called and told me about the incident. I was still in class. I panicked to get home and freaked out when finally at home. I thought my parents had already arrived because they normally take that flight. But God caused them to take the last flight so they were still in the air when it happened.

If they took the earlier flight I, along with my brothers, would be waiting for them. We could have been added to the list of casualties because of the bomb.

When I was second year I fell off a motorcycle in school. God's hand was there too because as I was falling my hands automatically protected my head. And my bag protected my back. As I stood up, sore and bruised, I saw a huge rock right where my back would have been. It would have broken my spinal cord had I not worn my back pack.

God's hand moves daily. Whether through our most desperate hour or when we are sleeping, He is there. It is His hand that sweeps across the nation to seek you out and bless you.

I have almost forgotten about that until yesterday. I have had a few bad days come one after the other and it does seem too much to bear at times. But God's hand is still here. And as long as it is His hand that "rocks the cradle" of my life, there is really nothing to worry about.