In a family of 7 children, injuries abound, not from brawling but from childhood clumsiness and crashing into obstacles. A black eye is a common occurrence with kids, and ours never stopped running into things.
This photo of Louisa tells a shiner story of high impact with a coffee table, but that tale is insignificant compared to a second story told by the same picture.
It was 1991, and our family was in a financial free-fall. Every day brought more bad news, making it difficult to believe Jeremiah 29:11.
During those days, that verse was popping up frequently in sermons and had become the mantra of several Christian organizations: ”I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” I really wanted to believe God’s “hopeful future” applied to us Nymans, but it was becoming more and more difficult.
One day 3 year old Louisa, 1 year old Birgitta, and I were pushing our shopping cart through K-Mart when I spotted a display of little girl dresses. Louisa had a Sunday school program upcoming with nothing cute to wear, and I began sliding hangers on the store rack while simultaneously thinking, “Stop it. You can’t afford these.”
But it was too late. A darling dress was already in our cart, black with pink roses and a satin sash to match. Weezi began jumping up and down. “For me?”
“For you!” I said, picturing her on the church stage feeling special.
While in the check-out line, however, common sense took hold of me. “I guess we’re not buying this,” I told the girl, handing her the dress.
That afternoon, while the girls napped and I had a pity party, next-door-neighbor Becky called. “My sister sent me a box of girl clothes, and since I only have boys, I thought maybe you’d want them.”
“Sure,” I said, offering to run over, but before I could, she was on my porch struggling under the weight of a giant box. We set it down in my kitchen, and she headed home. When I opened it, I gasped. Lying on top was a black dress with pink roses and a pink, satin sash (see photo). It was nearly identical to the dress I’d left behind at K-Mart. This time I let the tears come, a joyful response to God’s unexpected surprise.
Sometimes he lets us run into life’s sharp edges so forcefully we end up with shiners. But then there are times when he carefully moves us past each obstacle toward spectacular surprises that take our breath away.
The trick is being willing to accept whatever he plans, whether it’s a painful shiner or a joyful surprise. Our part is to trust his timing and judgment, especially on our tough days. I’ll take a shiner any day, though, if I know a gasp-worthy surprise is coming, too.
And amazingly, the day I found Louisa’s pretty dress, a second gasp came right after the first…
(tomorrow’s blog)
“Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits — who…crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things.” (Psalm 103:2,4,5)
