Tonight I’m munching on brightly colored gumballs, and it has reminded me of an incident that happened 33 years ago. Our firstborn Nelson, four years old at the time, proved to be wise beyond his years.

Whenever we’d shop at the local grocery, the three kids tried to behave well, knowing if they did, there was a treat at the end of our errand. The store had a clear glass machine of mouth-watering gumballs near the exit. If we got there with our cart full of bagged groceries and three kids tantrum-free, it was gumballs all around.

Nelson always led the way with his dime. Before putting it into the slot, he’d tell the machine what color gumball he wanted. “I want a red one,” he’d order, in a demanding tone. Inevitably it was a different color, and though he’d made it through the store without a tantrum, right then it usually occurred.

“I said RED!” he’d holler, sometimes dropping to the floor in frustration and anger, occasionally kicking the machine.

This scene usually ended with me explaining to my raging, non-listening child that no one can control which gumball comes when. Then I’d say, “And since you don’t want this one, I’ll eat it.” The next time we’d approach the same machine, Nelson hadn’t learned a thing, always sure this time his command would be obeyed.

It was well over a year of never receiving his requested gum color that Nelson decided to let Lars, two years younger, approach the machine first. Stepping into his older brother’s shoes, Lars put in his money and instructed the machine about gumball color, just as he’d seen Nelson do. “I want green,” he said. When a white one came out, he started to cry and yell.

Nelson, standing by with his own dime ready, addressed his comment to Lars, but it held weight for me, too. In the voice of reason, this formerly frustrated child, now all of five years old, said, “You have to take what the gumball machine gives you.” After that day, no one made another request of the gumball machine, and everyone happily chewed the color they received.

This incident became part of our family folk lore. Nate told the story often, and whenever life took a negative turn, he’d quote Nelson. “Well, this isn’t the greatest situation in the world, but we have to take what the gumball machine gives us.” He even made that statement once in reference to his pancreatic cancer.

And that’s the thing about life. Much of it is handed to us without our permission and is contrary to our wishes. Just as Nelson wanted a red gumball, we want unblemished health, a secure fortune, contented relationships and personal freedom. Inevitably one (and sometimes all) of those categories become “discolored”.

Nelson once suggested we find a gumball machine with only red ones in it so his dime would produce what he wanted every time. Interestingly, our lives would be devoid of growth if the experiences coming to us were all the same hue. It’s by way of receiving the “wrong colors” that we make progress.

The reality of the situation is that God does have control of what comes to us, whether its a gumball color or a life experience, and he wants to teach us that every “color” has significant flavor. But be prepared for anything, because once in a while he’ll send us a “red gumball.”

“I [Paul the Apostle] have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:12-13)