September 25, 1982

Posted on September 26, 2010 by Margaret

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)

Figuring out Fatherhood

Posted on September 24, 2010 by Margaret

Last week two friends tapped on my front door just before leaving town. They wanted to deliver a few things, among them an old copy of a newsletter I’d edited back in the eighties.

Nate and I were members of Moody Church in Chicago then and were raising our children with help from Sunday school teachers, pastors and other families there. I was on the nursery committee, a fun group that birthed lifelong friendships.

One of my duties was to put together a newsletter, the Crib Sheet, 20-plus pages printed quarterly. It was reader-written, and several columns were included in every issue: mothering tips, an interview with a grandma, menu suggestions, quotes from young children, medical commentary, several articles written by young moms, and a word from the nursery chairman.

Believing that fathers played a critical role with their young families, we asked one of them to contribute a short piece for each newsletter. Most were reluctant to write, and occasionally when print time came, I’d still be empty-handed.

This was the case in April of 1984, so I asked Nate, late one night, if he’d write our “Father’s Forum” feature. Last week when my friends came by, the Crib Sheet they put into my hands included Nate’s article. At the time he was 39 and had five children ages 12, 10, 8, 4 & 3.

Nate’s piece (below) made good use of 200 words with five summary statements followed by five examples:

Fatherhood

Fatherhood makes you aware of your own mortality. You appraise the birth of your child from your age: how old will I be when my child is 7, 14, 21?

Fatherhood gives you empathy for your own father. You remember your father’s words from an episode of many years ago which seemed incomprehensible or petulant. Now you appreciate what he wanted to tell you – the significance of his syntax.

Fatherhood affords understanding of the Lord. The metaphor used in Scripture frequently for the relationship between Divinity and man is Fatherhood – the Trinity – Father, Son and Holy Ghost. This use of Fatherhood shows us God’s power over us and concern for us.

Fatherhood gives fun and joy. You enjoy teaching your child to swim or ride a bike. You treasure his or her efforts to learn to speak, read, write and spell. You share the mirth of a two year old’s birthday party and a six year old’s affection for a kitten. You smile at the spelling of a boy of nine, grin at an eleven year old’s rendition of the Civil War and share time at the beach with all the kids.

Fatherhood is profound and yet routine; it is intimidating at times and yet fun. It is hectic.

I love my children. Nate Nyman

What a delight to hear from Nate. When I got to the last line, I started to cry. Even with the mild conflicts detailed in his final point, his firm conclusion was, “I love my children.” And he made sure Crib Sheet readers knew it.

Our friend Dr. John Elsen (with 11 children) says, “Most men are unprepared for fatherhood.” Nate was no exception, but God cares deeply for young fathers and willingly co-parents when asked. He was helping Nate, and he knew it.

Nate’s bottom line, though, is the reason Nate’s children rushed to be with him when the chips were down, because even though young daddies make mistakes, love covers a multitude of sins.

“Love makes up for practically anything.” (1 Peter 4:8b, The Message)

Choosing Names

Posted on September 22, 2010 by Margaret

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.