My husband, Joe, and I are big fans of theologian J.I. Packer. We own
numerous copies and editions of his classic work,
Knowing God. In 1981,
Joe and I lived in Andover, Massachusetts, for one year. When we found
out that Dr. Packer was a professor at Gordon Conwell Seminary, only an
hour from our home, we made plans to go hear him speak. I don't remember
much about the lecture we heard-I don't even remember the title or
topic; but I do remember his humble demeanor, and I will never forget
the story he told.
Twenty years have come and gone since hearing the story, and I will try
to convey it correctly. Some of the details may be incorrect, but I
vividly remember the moral of the story. It seems that Dr. Packer came
from a family of modest means, and every year for Christmas he would get
one special gift. One year during his boyhood he decided he wanted a
bicycle for Christmas more than anything else in the world. He said he
started months in advance lobbying for the bike. He could hardly sleep
on Christmas Eve in anticipation of riding the bike he knew he was going
to receive.
Finally Christmas morning arrived. He bounded into the living room,
where his excitement quickly dissipated into disappointment. To his
horror, the long-awaited bicycle was, in reality, a typewriter. He
didn't want a typewriter; he wanted a bicycle. He was heartbroken.
Dr. Packer ended the story of the bicycle and the typewriter by
providing his audience with the moral: a bicycle would have eventually
rusted or broken and been forgotten, but God used Packer's typewriter to
change lives around the world through his writings. How often we pray
for a bicycle, but God, thankfully, gives us a typewriter instead.
My two adult sons, Ty and John, are both gifted athletes. Growing up, they participated in every
sport known to mankind. As they reached their teenage years, they both
played on classic (traveling) soccer teams and continued to play
basketball and baseball on the side. From the time Ty was in the ninth
grade, hardly a season passed without a coach from an area public or
private school calling to ask if I would put the boys in school so one
of them could play for his team. (South Carolina is not one of the many
states that allow home schoolers to participate in public school
activities.)
The boys really wanted to play high school ball, and because I was their
mother-and wanted them to have what they wanted-I wanted them to be able
to play on high school teams, where the level of play exceeds that of
recreational teams. They not only wanted the challenge and excitement,
but they also wanted the exposure to increase their chances for college
scholarships.
When Ty reached the tenth grade, it became agonizingly clear that,
barring unforeseen miracles, he would probably not be able to play high
school ball. As a home-schooling mother, this was extremely difficult
for me. We decide to home school our children to give them the best, not
to deprive them of what they want the most. In retrospect, I think the
boys' inability to play high school ball was harder for my husband and
me than it was for them.
During the fall of Ty's tenth grade year, we began to pray seriously
that God would open up an avenue of interest for him to fill the void
left by not being able to play high school ball. In January of 1995,
Senator Warren Giese hired Ty to serve as a page in the South Carolina
Senate. Ty kept this job for three years. Then in April of his senior
year, he was selected to serve as a page in Washington, D.C., for
Senator Strom Thurmond. Other opportunities, including Presidential
Scholars Classroom, TeenPact, and Boys State, materialized.
In spite of these opportunities, Ty's desire to play high school ball
did not ebb. In 1996, Ty's junior year, we pursued Equal Access
Legislation in South Carolina, designed to give eligible, home-schooled
students the opportunity to participate in public school,
extra-curricular activities. In spite of valiant and sustained efforts
by many parents, the legislation failed to pass the General Assembly. We
were all sorely disappointed over this defeat, knowing that this was, in
fact, the last hoorah for the time being. Ty took the defeat like a man,
which is more than I can say for myself. He came to terms with his
disappointment and moved on.
One morning during the week of Ty's high school graduation (June 1997),
we sat at the kitchen table and reminisced about the many ups and downs
of our home-schooling journey which began in 1984. We talked about his
internships, travel opportunities, service and ministry projects, and
the closeness of our family. We also talked about the hard times and
disappointments, the jail threats, court cases, and legislative battles
we had encountered along the way. We inevitably reached the topic of
high school athletics, and Ty reminded me of our prayers in his tenth
grade year to replace high school sports with another opportunity.
At that moment, God reminded me of J.I. Packer and his typewriter. Until
then I had completely forgotten the story. As I related Packer's
Christmas story to Ty, I realized that we had been praying for sports,
but God had given Ty politics instead. Ty had many life-changing
experiences in high school that he would have never had if he had been
tied to the demanding schedule of a high school soccer team. (And in
spite of Ty's inability to play high school sports, he went to college
on a soccer scholarship-as did his brother John.)
The real point of this story is not to tell you about Ty, but to
encourage you in your own home-schooling pilgrimage. None of us have
perfect children or perfect families. We all suffer differing levels of
heartache and disappointments. Sometimes limitations and closed doors in
the lives of our children and our families can be very disheartening;
yet God can turn our trials into triumphs and our mourning into joy. He
can do abundantly more for our children than we can ask or think. He can
work all things-even the hard things-together for good. He can even turn
bitter disappointments into blessings.
Remember Joseph's words in Genesis when he spoke of being sold into
slavery by his brothers: "They meant it for evil, but God meant it for
good." As you contemplate the trials and disappointments in your own
life, remember that, in the grand scheme of things, typewriters can be
abundantly more exciting and fulfilling than bicycles.
Zan Tyler has authored and co-authored several books. She and her husband, Joe,
home schooled their two sons and daughter from kindergarten through high school. Zan is also the Home School Resource and Media Consultant for Broadman and Holman Publishers and Homeschool Editor for www.lifeway.com.
