EQUIPPED

Somebody, somewhere, had this great idea of a pink-handled tool kit for women who will never aspire to be “Tim the Tool-man.” (Maybe “Tina the Tool-woman”?) Yes, the basics of hammer, pliers, screwdrivers, and such for those pesky little problems that crop up in running a household. I can't recall who my “girl-tool-kit” came from, but it's stored in a “handy place”...and from time to time has been “quite handy.”

First, a disclaimer. One's gender does not predispose certain real-world “tool-handiness.” There are women out there who excel with hammer, saw and all the rest. Some of us, though, have the “beginner set”--and I thought about my beginner tools when I thought through some Biblical passages about being “equipped for good works.” Like this one at the end of the letter to the Hebrews, offering a benediction that the “God of peace” bless these believers, “equipping you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ” (Hebrews 20:21). It's not a quality you can buy at a store, but it's what is stored up in our character through a growing faith.

These passages came to mind as I thought of essential “spiritual tools”:

Scripture's saw: Able to cut through character defects and excesses for the right “fit”: “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16-17).

Tried-and-true instructions: Not a paper of 1-2-3 instructions and diagrams, but the tried (literally “tried” for Paul, before Roman government high-honcho Pilate) and true (Son of God) “Shepherd of God's sheep” who is able to “equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may...work in us what is pleasing to him” (Hebrews 13:21).

Skill-matched tasks: Some of the faith community will be tapped as leaders, others to serve in less public roles—all making up the body of Christ so all can “become mature attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:11-13). Whether judges or janitors, each has a vital role that lifts the “ordinary” to “God-ordained.”

Perseverance: The apostle Paul knew how tough ministry could be. He sat in many jails, endured harassment, and survived life-threatening stoning. He experienced the world's “pounding” of ridicule, shame, prison, shipwreck—and eventually a death sentence. Yet he affirmed, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:13).

Now, if you'll excuse me, I remember a screw coming loose on a door hinge....

DAD'S TOOLS

I couldn't recall when I last saw it, but my late father's vintage brass nesting screwdriver set was definitely lost. This unique tool –I'm guessing it dated to the 1950s--had a screw-off cap that hid more tiny screwdrivers. I do know he stored it in the kitchen “junk drawer” with screws, nails, pliers, a small hammer, and other quick-repair items. Cleaning out after my parents' deaths in 1978, that was one tool I “re-homed” for myself in one of my kitchen drawers in a special box for small tools.

I'm usually careful about returning tools after use, but for some reason last year I lost that screwdriver. We searched fruitlessly in my my husband's tool boxes and through other kitchen drawers. I was sad to lose it . Not only had I kept track of it for almost half a century, it was a poignant reminder of my dad who died too young at 63 of a heart attack, just months after my mother died of cancer. At that time, I was only 31, still single, and not ready to be an “orphan.”

But I had my dad's tools, and a heritage of his gritty, don't-give-up determination nurtured in the Great Depression. He faithfully fulfilled his role as husband, dad to two daughters, and patient caregiver to two demanding Siamese cats. Every Sunday our family was in church where he belted out (off-key!) the hymns he loved.

He was a steadfast employee, working as a chemist and quality control person most of his adult life for a mill that produced cardboard boxes. When he came home from that noisy, stinky mill and changed from workshirt-and-tie into his “chore clothes,” he'd “chill” a while after dinner. But those dad-tasks would eventually beckon: yard and house care (sometimes using that multi-piece screwdriver), reading to his young daughters, and paying the bills. For that, he entered the electronic era, balancing the checkbook with his hand-size calculator powered by a 9-volt battery.

When I came across it on his desk after his death, I knew I wanted to keep it as a memory as well as something practical for me. Though its functions didn't go beyond square root, it did get me through a grad school statistics class. Now it helps me balance our checkbook.

I have other mementos of my parents, but the screwdriver and calculator seem to especially remind me of my good family heritage. Of fixing things. Of the virtues of budgeting. Of the blessing of being raised in a home with a caring, responsible husband and father.

By the way, I did find that screwdriver this spring when uncovering patio furniture on our deck. It had sat all winter on a bagged cushion propped against the kitchen window whose screen I'd pried off to wash it. Probably distracted, I left it behind and forgot about it. Finding it (a bit rusty but still useful), I remembered my dad's humble, diligent lifestyle.

So yes, I'm celebrating my “found” multi-piece tool. But this Father's Day, I'm also celebrating my dad—he'd be 107 had he lived—who passed on the genesis of growing faith that “tooled” me to live for Jesus.

BAD TOOLS

Disclaimer: the tools in this illustration are not bad of themselves. In fact, they’re quite useful when my husband needs to grab his most useful assortment to repair bikes. But I snapped a photo of them as a reminder of a well-used speaker’s illustration of spiritual problems.  The story is called “The Devil’s Toolbox.”  It describes an imagined yard sale in which the Devil had put out for sale the various tools he used against humans. They were labeled “hatred,” “envy,” “jealousy,” “pride” and so on.  Off to one side was a very worn tool with an extravagant price. When customers asked about it, curious why it cost so much when it was obviously in poor shape, he replied, “That’s ‘discouragement.’ It’s worn because it’s my most useful tool. It helps me pry open human hearts when the others can’t.”

Those tools of the tempter came to mind as I read the counsel of psychologist Dr. Henry Cloud about working through emotional pain in the journey toward Christian character. Facing negative things in our lives is hard, he wrote in Integrity: The Courage to Meet the Demands of Reality (Harper, 2006, pp. 198-199). But, to borrow a cliché to emotional healthiness, “No pain, no gain.” He added: "Even the best things in life that are free, as we say, such as love, have big price tags in order to possess. Self-denial, sacrifice, giving, delay of gratification, repentance, forgiveness, swallowing pride and ego, are all among the price tags of making love work. But, in the end, it is always worth it.”

Fixing things that are “not good” in our lives—like a marriage or relationship, addiction, depression, failure, or even a physical injury—happens every day to people who prize character above comfort. “There is no easy street and no shortcut,” he added. “In the end, the short-cut is always the longest route, and people of character know this and it has become a part of their makeup” (p. 199).

He goes on to point out that teaching children about delayed gratification and keeping short accounts are part of the training that goes into positive adult character.  That made me think of the “discouragement” tool. Its blows are felt the hardest by people who haven’t been brought up to learn resilience and forgiving grace, the very character qualities modeled by Jesus. And again, James 1 came to mind: that when trials come, we can consider them a burden or an opportunity to grow in godly perseverance. In other words, saying a firm “NO!” to the threatened blows of the Enemy’s “discouragement” tool.

It’s not always easy, but it’s God’s best way.