This is an old pet peeve of mine. And I have a feeling that G‑d may share my gripe.

Unless you've been hiding somewhere under a rock for the past few days, you are aware of the tremendous havoc wrought by an invisible cloud of volcanic ash that covers much of Europe's airspace. The eruption of a volcano beneath Iceland's Eyjafjallajokull glacier (no, that is not a typo) is causing major problems for airlines and their now-stranded passengers, as airports across Europe have been shut down for days now, resulting in tens of thousands of cancelled flights. The International Air Transport Association estimated that the disruption is costing the airline industry some $200 million a day—an estimate that the IATA terms as "conservative."

What bothers me is that while perusing the various news stories covering this monumental mess, three words keep on appearing: "Act of G‑d."

A CNN story dated April 16, for example, explains that passengers may not be able to make claims on travel insurance "because the volcano's impact may be classified as an act of G‑d."

Now, I ask, what do you think G‑d thinks of this expression, used to describe extraordinary and unpredictable phenomena?

I can imagine Him saying, "Hey, everything that happens to you is an 'act of G‑d'! Yes, when your bread fell on the floor earlier today – buttered side up, no less – that was Me! Look up, you see that very visible and completely ordinary cloud, it's Me who is suspending those water crystals in the atmosphere. I'm not just in the volcano business!"

Apparently, this is a millennia-old issue, one described by King David (as explained by the chassidic masters):

"G‑d is exalted over all nations; upon the heavens is His glory"—Psalms 113:4.

The "nations" reverently proclaim that G‑d is "exalted." It is beneath His dignity, they maintain, to occupy Himself with the humdrum profane daily happenings here on earth; rather, His glory is in the heavens, where He is involved with spiritual matters that are of infinite import.

The bread that fell this morning, the cumulus cottony mass that floats above me—G‑d doesn't bother with such trivialities. But a globally disruptive volcano, now there's an act of G‑d!

In truth, however, King David continues:

"Who is like G‑d, our G‑d, who dwells on high, [but] who lowers [His eyes] to look in the heavens and the earth?"—ibid. verses 5-6.

To G‑d, both the spiritual and the physical worlds are equally naught. He dwells above them both; involvement in either realm requires that He "lower" Himself. But nevertheless He does so. He lowers Himself to see – and direct – all that transpires on heaven or earth.

Which leads to my next point.

Even if we choose to ascribe to G‑d unusual and remarkable events, why only the negative ones?

A USA Today story last week reported about David Gray, who instead of making his final preparations for running his first Boston Marathon, is stuck in a hotel room in Belgium. "To have an act of G‑d like this happen is really frustrating," Gray remarked.

Or an AP story that discussed the calamitous toll this is taking on the aviation industry: "Many in the travel industry on Thursday weren't asking whether they would be affected but how badly. 'This is the ultimate act of G‑d,' said Chicago-based transportation expert Joseph Schwieterman."

I say that we should combat the rampant sullying of G‑d's reputation.

Next time my daughter tells me about the great day she had in school, I will try to remember to say, "Hmmm, what a beautiful act of G‑d!"

The next time my buttered toast lands on the floor – no matter on which side – I will try to remark, "Wow, another act of G‑d!"

Join me. We can make a difference.