To my friend, A., who by her own willingness to bravely, graciously receive the unexpected gifts of God has helped me find these words. Thanks, sister. You could have said this so much better than I have, for you have lived it better than anyone I have known.

Romans 8 (all of it!)

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Sometimes the gift you get is the one you never wanted to receive. And no, I’m not talking here about that hideous teal and magenta sweater that your mother-in-law got for you last Christmas. (Though now that I mention it, how on earth could she have thought that those colors should go together in the first place or that you would ever be caught dead wearing the horrid thing?)

No, I mean something a bit more serious. So all gag gifts and well-intentioned but horribly misled presents aside, I’d venture to say that each of us has at some point or another had the experience of receiving a gift that we weren’t looking for and might not necessarily have even been able to perceive as desirable. Let me tell you a bit more about what I mean.

Within every experience of our lives there is the potential for good. Keep in mind that I’m not saying here that all things are good. We need only to take one quick glance at the sin and suffering in our world and in our own lives to see that some things are exceedingly broken and exceptionally lamentable. Some things simply are not, and never could be, good. And I will not dare to make light of the pain so many people, myself included, have experienced by saying that in God all things are good. To do so would be trite, untrue, and cruel.

I can, however, confess a truth that is even more fundamental than the brokenness that distorts our lives. Though not all things are good, the amazing, powerful God we have—the God of redemption, of renewal, of resurrection and rebirth—can and does and will bring some kind of light and life out of the emptiest or even most appalling of things. And in this truth there is hope, there is sustenance, there is a way forward.

We may not always be able to see it at the time. For the gift is often unexpected, and it sometimes comes in disguise. While our eyes are shadowed by the fear and pain, or sometimes even the boredom or selfish frustration, of a life that is not turning out in the ways we would have liked for it to, we find ourselves wondering, “How could God possibly be in the midst of this?” But praise be to God that our inadequate imaginations do not prevent God’s goodness from being present in surprising and powerful ways anyway! As insufficient as our hearts and minds may be in a given moment to comprehend what gift God might be offering us, I can promise you it is there. In time and with increasing humility and teachability, we will be able to perceive it.

But even when we do see it, we may not always appreciate it. For the gifts of God sometimes look like death and burial before they look like resurrection. “How could this be a gift?” we now find ourselves asking, or even accusing. “This is no gift I ever wanted to receive.” I'll take it back. Return it. Exchange it for something different. After all, I have a much better idea of what I want out of my life than God does, right?

But unlike the teal and magenta sweater, that is not the way God’s gifts work. There are no gift receipts for the unexpected gifts God has given us. We either humbly accept them and learn to find the good in them or we refuse, whether from hardheartedness or brokenness, to be stretched beyond the more comfortable confines of what we know and want. The choice is ours.

So as you enter into each moment of your life, be on the lookout for the unexpected gifts that our redemptive God may want to bring your way. Keep the eyes of your heart open, and seek to ready yourself for these gifts, even in the hardest of times if you can. Perhaps it will be the gift of an opportunity to build patience and trust in God. Perhaps it will be a deepened relationship because of conflict you have to overcome. Perhaps it will be the gift of bravery you never wanted to have to possess. Perhaps it will be the opportunity for vulnerability as you share with your husband that you feel like you’re losing your mind because your child won’t stop screaming. (I might possibly have had recent experience with this particular unexpected gift.) Whatever it is, each gift will be unique to the relationship and the story that you and God are building together.

True, believing that good may emerge from all things may seem like a nonsensical or impossible feat. Remember, not all things are good, and not all things are from God. But at the same time that God mourns with us in our suffering, God can and will, if we allow it, bring light and life from all things, even the dreadful ones. It may feel like death and burial. And sometimes it may actually entail death and burial, for there are parts of each of us that need to be laid to rest. Death and burial certainly are hard to welcome . . . but because God is who God is, somewhere inside each experience is an unexpected gift and, ready for those who have the faith to receive it, the hope and promise of resurrection, the most unexpected, most welcome gift of all.