Governments don’t have soul, and none of the congressmen who voted “yes” to the tax changes back in 1986, knew our family or intended to hurt us. With their “yeas” and “nays” they didn’t think about Nate’s business imploding as a result of the law change and didn’t see the struggle we’d have to keep milk in our refrigerator.

One of Nate’s favorite things to say during these difficult months, years, and eventually two decades was, “We soldier onward.” I loved that. He gave us the determination to keep marching forward when it would have been easier to quit fighting against overwhelming odds.

During those dark days I often stood in the check-out line at the grocery with a cranky baby on my hip and a near-empty purse over my shoulder. It’s difficult to decide what items to take off the belt to bring a total under $12. Milk, meat and veggies are out of reach when money is scarce, especially when trying to feed a crowd.

I became a pro at saving pennies. I told the kids to put their clothes back into the drawers after wearing them once, to get a second wearing (at least) before washing. That way we saved on expensive detergents. I cared for leftovers by the pea and kernel of corn, and I don’t mean from the serving bowls. I mean from the plates. Bits that were left on each plate were gathered to make one new serving for someone at the next meal. I learned to make soup, most recipes without meat, and we slurped it down, night after night.

During these stress filled days, I began looking for God like never before. I had to know if he saw our situation and how he might offer to help us.

I recognized him first on a bitter cold, icy morning when I stepped out the front door to drive the school carpool. There, covered in sparkling frost, were two large paper grocery bags full of food: potatoes, oranges, cereal, butter, bread, canned vegetables, cookies, peanut butter, soup and rice. Wedged into the bottom was a frozen ham.

The kids, leaning forward under the burden of school back packs, stumbled over each other to look into the bags. “Who? When? Why?” We never got the answers. But we all recognized God that day, and when he came, he taught us something important.

Although he lets us struggle in a million different ways, he’s always watching out for us. Pastor Erwin Lutzer says, “God lets us go into the fire, but he always keeps his hand on the thermostat.” I think he pays closer attention during painful times than when things are going well.

On that discouraging winter day back in the late eighties, God loved us so much that he leaned down from heaven and whispered into someone’s ear: “Drop two bags of groceries on Nyman’s front porch today.” For their obedience, I will always be grateful.