During my first year of bible school, desperately needing an electric typewriter and being frugal, I went to a pawn shop to try to find a good bargain. 

There it was; my hunt was successful.  Of course, it was a little banged up, having been used and probably abused.  Nonetheless it was in my price range and I was elated.  I was very quick to assure God that this was a good deal and that He would be so proud of me for being a good steward of His money.  So prayers were raised for the $70 needed so desperately for the typewriter.  And true to His promises, God honored my quarter grain mustard seed of faith.  In about a week I received a check in the mail for $70 exactly.

So it was off again to the pawn broker with my money in my hot little hand.  Seeing the proprietor, I had a big smile on my face telling him that I wanted to pick up the typewriter. 

“It’s gone; I sold it last week.”

My outboard engine started up, “but … but … but …” - then it stalled with, “That was my typewriter.”  The store owner asked the obvious question about how much money I had put down on it.  That surely must have been rhetorical because he already knew the answer.

I felt dejected, rejected and ejected leaving the shop, asking God why He gave me the $70 and then did not keep the typewriter for me.  Three hundred reasons were running through my head justifying the need for a typewriter.  He knew just how important it was for required theses, term papers, and myriad of other papers that needed typing.

A couple of days later Martha made the declaration which causes every husband to cringe, “Sweetheart, the washing machine is broken!”  Everyone has had some extra money that was being saved for something special when there was an unexpected doctor bill or one of the children needed money for school pictures; the cache is revealed.  Well, so much for the $70.

About a month later it was Ester and Martha’s brother who invited us to Pontiac for the weekend.  After dinner, Chuck (Martha’s brother) asked Martha to close her eyes.  There was a rustle of gift wrap and Chuck appeared with a very large box explaining that he and his Mom had bought it over a month ago and were waiting for a chance to give it to us.

Like a child on Christmas morning, Martha tore away the gift-wrapping and there to our bewilderment was a brand new Smith-Corona typewriter!