They say the toast burnt for a reason.
That moment you stood in the kitchen,
staring at blackened bread,
annoyed,
running late,
wondering why the smallest things
always choose the worst time to fail you.
You scrape it, or throw it away,
or make another slice, muttering under your breath.
But that delay, that small, unwanted pause,
changes everything.
Because maybe the toast that burnt
is the reason you missed the accident at the junction.
The reason you didn’t step into the chaos
that was not meant for you.
The burnt toast theory says
some delays are protection.
That not every inconvenience is an enemy.
That some frustrations are quiet guardians
wearing the clothes of annoyance.
It says maybe you were late
because God was early.
Early in rerouting you.
Early in shielding you.
Early in saying,
“Not this road.
Not this time.”
The toast did not ruin your morning.
It rearranged it.
We get angry at the burn marks,
at the missed buses,
at the unanswered calls,
at the doors that refuse to open
no matter how hard we knock.
But what if that closed door
saved you from a room
where your peace would have died?
What if that missed opportunity
was actually mercy
disguised as loss?
Burnt toast teaches patience.
It asks us to breathe
before we curse the moment.
To trust that timing we don’t understand
might be working in our favor.
Not everything that delays you, is against you.
Some things stand in the way, so danger won’t.
So next time life burns your toast, pause.
Not everything is going wrong. Some things are quietly going right.
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The strong Power behind Fire spoken word walkingshadow
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A diamond in the wrong hands is just a stone.
Not because it has lost its worth, but because the hands holding it
do not know how to see it.
They throw it on the ground, step on it,
call it ordinary, because they cannot tell the difference
between value and shine.
Some hands want to use it to hurt, others to show off,
others to trade it for quick pleasure, never knowing
it was meant to last.
But place that same diamond in the right hands,
hands that know patience, hands that understand care,
hands that see beyond the surface and suddenly,
it becomes priceless.
The diamond did not change. The hands did.
So if you have ever felt ignored, mishandled,
or treated like you were nothing, remember this:
you were never a stone.
You were a diamond waiting for the right hands.
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