The Father Nose Best

It happened around five years ago. I remember it as if it were yesterday... I had been stewing in my hot car all day with my five little ones. I delivered a son to baseball practice, delivered a husband to a church finance meeting, delivered the forgotten ball glove, and a bajillion other deliveries in between. (Who would've thought that childbirth would be the EASY delivery?)

To top it all off, the day had been packed with one annoying little trauma after another. The ATM ate my card with not so much as a recognition--not even a "Thank you, mamm." Just: "INSERT CARD" still blaring at me. The air conditioner in the minivan was suddenly toast (and all of you who have come to know me and love me know that I don't do that "sweat thing" with grace). All the while, I was having visions--maybe something sort of related to flashbacks--of the past-my-eyeballs mountain of laundry waiting at home for me. (My friend Liz and I like to call it "Mount Washmore.") It had been one of those three-spill dinners, and while there's no use crying over spilled milk, three of them can just about bring anyone to tears. I broke a nail, overspent the budget, and forgot to deliver some clothes to the local clothes closet (yet another delivery hanging over my head--somebody help me).

I was on the verge of shrieking an "Okay! I surrender!" When Kaley, four years old at the time, interrupted my pity party with the deep thought of the hour: "Mom, how come we gots TWO holes in our noses?"

A friend gave me the obvious answer later. He said that it was so we could still breathe out of one hole when we have a finger in the other.

But since I'm not nearly that quick-thinking, I answered, "Because that's the way God designed us. And we can always know that whatever He designs for us is just right."

I really hate it when I'm trying to sound wise and motherly to my children and I get konked between the eyes with the jewel of wisdom that's supposed to be for them. Yet there it was--right in my face. I knew the message was for me.

I spoke a prayer of surrender and thanksgiving to The Awesome Designer around a throat-lump the size of New Jersey.

I'm supposing that "I surrender" was precisely the right cry. As I surrendered in trust to His design for my life, all those little annoyances fell right into perspective. And how those tiny annoyances paled into insignificance against the brightness of my countless blessings--5 of whom bounced happily in my toasty minivan, breathing through 10 perfectly designed nostrils. Praise God for His design.

Contributed by Rhonda Rhea

Rhonda Rhea writes for dozens of great Christian publications and speaks at conferences and events across the country. You can find her new book, Amusing Grace, at your local Christian bookstore. Rhonda's husband, Richie Rhea, is a pastor in Troy, Missouri. You can reach them through her website at

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