Category Archives: Adult Children

September 25, 1982

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God was good to us on September 25, 1982, the day we met newborn Hans Tomas Nyman. Because he followed his older brother Klaus by only 16 months, we were delighted he was a boy-buddy, even though six year old Linnea was furious with me for having given birth to yet another brother.

Hans, a little guy who never gave us a lick of trouble, turned out to be a high school kid who was cerebral like his father but also scatterbrained like his mother. Nate used to laugh with gusto every time he told the story of student-Hans pacing back and forth in the kitchen. “It’s due! It’s due!” he said, knitting his brow with anxiety.

“What’s due?” Nate asked.

“I don’t remember what, but it’s due!”

That was Hans. Paychecks from his part time job would come through the wash in his jeans pockets, and he’d often sleep with his clothes on, a half-full glass of water teetering on the mattress next to him. His passion was drumming, and after several years of listening to him beg, we gifted him with a borrowed set of practice pads for Christmas, along with a coupon for lessons. By the time he received his first real drum nearly a year later, he’d proven to be diligent in practice and faithful to the house-rules-for-noise.

When he reached adulthood, Hans could hit almost anything and coax music from it: a marimba, African drums, cymbals, timpani, chimes, bells, a piano and his favorite, the drum kit (a full set of five drums with cymbals). He managed the quads in the school marching band and belonged to several other school bands, along with the church orchestra. He also had his own band.

Although Hans never stopped drumming, somewhere in his early twenties, he began leaning hard into his love for reading, choosing to concentrate on the Bible and C. S. Lewis. His faith in Christ blossomed, and percussion slipped to second place. I vividly recall a week during this time when we were housing 28 “Youth With A Mission” students for a week, as they passed through the Chicago area.

These YWAMers were creating dinner for all of them and us in our kitchen, insisting I not help, so I stood off to the side, observing the over-filled room. Suddenly, through the crowd I spotted Hans, sitting at the island counter with his head bent over a tattered Bible, oblivious to the commotion around him. He was totally tuned in to God.

When he decided to sign on for his own stint with YWAM in New Zealand, the Lord was ready with a spectacular surprise: Katy of England! He was smitten with his first look at her and was thrilled to learn that her love for the Lord came ahead of her love for him, which has built their marriage with triple-cord strength. God has blessed them in abundance: three children in three years of marriage. Although they’re busy and exhausted, the Lord remains #1.

While Hans’ mother still battles scatterbrainedness (for example, phoning him to say “happy birthday” on the wrong date), Hans has left his own scatterbrained history far behind, substituting well-honed skills of organization, planning, hard work and diligence: toward his family, in his drumming and with his ongoing reliance on God.

“The desires of the diligent are fully satisfied.” (Proverbs 13:4)

Choosing Names

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As each one of our children was born, Nate and I established two guidelines for naming them: (1) to follow Swedish tradition, and (2) for their names to be uncommon. Looking back, I wish we’d have put more weight on the meanings, but in the end, we named them Nelson, Lars, Linnea, Klaus, Hans, Louisa and Birgitta.

We knew we were taking a chance by using unusual names and hoped our offspring wouldn’t hate them, but of course as youngsters they did. They wanted to share commonly used names so that when they were asked, no repetition would be necessary.

But as we hoped, they all grew into their names, eventually becoming thankful for them. I always said, “If you get famous for any reason, you won’t even have to use your last name.”

In a hospital scene repeated seven times (at Swedish Covenant in Chicago), I remember delightful talks with Nate while holding each newborn as we finalized a name. Although we went into labor and delivery with a list of boy and girl favorites, it didn’t seem right to decide until we got a look at him or her. Then, almost always, the “right” name would pop out of the list.

Part of those naming conversations would always be mulling over possible nicknames, exploring whether or not anything would be intolerable. Now we know there isn’t a name anywhere without nickname potential. More significant was that I gave birth to the most prolific nick-namer ever: Lars.

Even last week at Afterglow, the five grandkids all came away with his “new” names: The Tawny Owl, Mix Master, Nk Chk, Big Time and Sky-Sky.

Several years ago our younger girls gave Nate and I nicknames: Pidge and Midge. I liked mine, but Nate wasn’t as enamored. “Sounds a lot like pidgeon,” he said. Mary and Bevin became Modge and Podge, and one of their daughters Morge. So we are now Midge, Pidge, Modge, Podge and Morge.

Names are important to God. Scripture says he wrote us into the Book of Life from before the world was even made. In his limitless foreknowledge, he knew what people like Nate and I would decide to name each of our children and already had those choices written down. Such a thought is mind-boggling and completely wonderful.

At some future date when God directs that the world is to end, he says we’ll receive new names, each one known only to the person receiving it. (Revelation 2:17) This sounds mysterious, especially because when it happens, he’s going to write it on a white stone as he gives it to us. Maybe these new names are the ones written in his book rather than the names we now have. In any case, Jesus makes it clear, while teaching his followers, that even more important than a name is where it’s written down. Is it in the Book of Life? If it is, it’ll stand strong as a reservation for residence in heaven.

Nate’s name was there, and as a result, so is he.

“Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” (Luke 10:20)

Home Again

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It’s always a delight to go away, and always a joy to return home. Our family ranks have thinned after driving most of the day in three vehicles to leave vacation-mentality behind and get back to the routine.

Our England family will spend tonight flying over the Atlantic, crossing back over six time zones to undo what they worked so hard to do last week. Birgitta is back at her university, and our Florida family will leave Friday to fly south. The rest of them will be back at their jobs tomorrow morning, and our vacation will officially be over. All good things must come to an end.

Tonight everyone is tired. Sitting in a car all day (and stopping for greasy meals) brings a feeling of sluggishness. But of course there was unloading, sorting through debris, and the inevitable questions: “Did we unpack the coffee yet? Has anyone seen my camera cord? Where are my keys?”

But extraordinary memories have been made… lots of them. At dinner last night, still in the Northwoods, we recounted a few highlights of our week together. Lots of fishing, including a couple of big ones that got away. Beautiful scenery outside every window. A mirror-like lake, reflecting colorful leaves. Babies, babies, babies! Laughter galore. Simple meals. Good golf. Stimulating conversation. And my favorite, family harmony.

I am bowled over by my children and their winsome ways with each other. What a pleasure to see each tending to the needs of the others. Tasks were shared, and I didn’t witness one incident of friction. How is this possible with 15 people living in close quarters for seven days?

I give the credit to Nate. (1) He originally found Afterglow Lake and established the annual tradition of vacationing in northern Wisconsin. (2) Being there this week evolved only as a result of his death. (3) He was a tireless promoter of family togetherness. (4) His provision for us paid this week’s bills. (5) We “heard” him frequently as we quoted him, retold his stories and shared favorite memories.

As the week went by, over and over again the kids said, “Thanks, Mom, for providing this trip for all of us.”

But the accurate response was, “Papa provided it, not me.”

This week I gave each of the kids a copy of Randy Alcorn’s book HEAVEN, and their readings from it prompted interesting and inviting discussion about Nate’s “vacation” to paradise. Knowing God had that joyous “trip” ready for Nate exactly when he needed it and also has it prepared for the rest of us gets us excited to go.

Heaven will be superior to any earthly vacation imaginable, and we won’t even have to pack for it. Better than that is we won’t have to unpack or do piles of laundry or wonder where everything is at the end of the journey, because there will be no end.

This trip will last forever!

“You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” (Psalm 16:11)