We own a spectacular flashlight that came to us in an unusual way. It’s made of aerospace-grade materials and is impact and water-resistant. Should it be dropped, it has a spongy, rubberized sheath around the vulnerable bulb-end, and it’s a foot long. The words “Coleman Graphite” are printed along the side.

If I was forced to look at the powerful bulb, my eyes would hurt for days, but the generous swath of light it puts forth is almost like a car’s headlights on high beam. I’ve checked online, and an equivalent flashlight would cost about $50, a far cry from the dime-store variety of our other flashlights.

Back in 2005, when Nate and I put our suburban home on the market after living there nearly 30 years, we never dreamed it would take 4 years to sell it, especially since the real estate market was still on a rapidly-rising bubble.

When we finally got the offer that “stuck,” our potential buyers asked for an asbestos inspection, and wouldn’t you know, the attic insulation contained microscopic bits of it. The buyers insisted we have it cleaned out, and after the 3-day process I climbed a ladder to peek at how the attic looked. Without insulation (and with a new white sealant on walls and floor joists), it looked pretty good.

As I stood on the ladder half-in and half-out of the attic, I noticed a big flashlight across the room. Climbing through the opening and crawling over the joists to retrieve it, I saw what good quality it was and figured it belonged to the asbestos team. Later I called them.

“No,” they said, “it isn’t ours.” I pressed the point, so one of the workers came by to look at it, but he was sure it wasn’t theirs. After that we asked people who came and went, but when we finally moved, we figured it was ours.

Coming into a high-quality flashlight isn’t any big deal, but the unexplainable way it came to us can be an object lesson for the way God does things. For example, maybe we need something specific or even just have a wish for it. We tell God about it in prayer, and one day, after we’ve forgotten we asked, there it is.

When God gives us the desire of our hearts (an un-sinful desire), he often brings it by a circuitous, improbable route. Why? Because he wants us to recognize that it’s him. If the way the gift arrived makes no logical sense and occurs against the odds, then I think we can rightly credit the Lord.

So, when I use our Coleman flashlight, it’s not the asbestos company that comes to mind. It’s God, and his sometimes unusual, often unexpected, but always welcome gifts.

“If you only look at us, you might well miss the brightness. We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives. That’s to prevent anyone from confusing God’s incomparable power with us.” (2 Corinthians 4:7)