Tools of the Trade

 The world can be conquered with simple tools.

I’d like to make it clear I was minding my own business when he found me.  I hadn’t asked for help, because I knew what I needed to do.  “Jack” dropped off my replacement washing machine the day before and while switching it out, asked why the exhaust pipe behind the dryer wasn't cut to size.   I politely explained I had no idea and Jack proceeded to list 7 reasons why it should be adjusted.  His list was persuasive, starting with the mental health of my dryer in particular and ending with the balance of the universe in general.  After such a convincing manifesto, I vowed to adjust the dryer vent the following morning.

I did not need help.

After a merry morning of tea and toast, I putzed around until my family was busy with their own activities.  When their attention was diverted, I fled downstairs.  Knowing time was limited, I set to scooching the washing machine over in order to pull the dryer from the wall.  That part was easy.  The dryer was feeling obedient and it too, slid along the lino as I created a work space behind the appliances.  While I was there I swept and dusted because lint is an enemy that must be engaged whenever the opportunity is forced upon you.  A trip to the kitchen to find my tools and I was happily ensconced in the land of home repair, behind the dryer in the laundry room.  

I like fixing things.  So I was happy behind the dryer, loosening bolts and adjusting the exhaust pipe.  It was a nice time.  Of course every Saturday home repair job comes with a moment of hellish vexation but that is to be expected.  No plan for efficiency goes unpunished in the world of DIY.  My enemy of the hour was the worm clamp that needed to be tightened in order to hold the exhaust hose to the machine.  I like worm clamps in theory, they offer the promise of easy tightening without needing to grow extra fingers to hold the bolt but in practice those things are beasts.  They are impossible to position and after tightening them for 40 minutes, you find them in the wrong place and need to unscrew the critters and start again.  However, I did not need help. 

I was therefore, surprised when my husband burst upon the scene and asked me (somewhat enthusiastically) what I was doing.  Now, sometimes questions strike me as rhetorical and in all honesty, identifying rhetorical questions is not my strength.  Which is probably why about 3 answers jumped immediately to my mind but were fortunately squashed by the sentry assigned to my mouth.  I played it safe by asking what my man meant.

“I mean, what are you doing?” He said slowly, banishing all my hopes that the question was in fact rhetorical.
“I … am … fixing … the … dryer … hose.”  I replied in turn, showing respectfully that I too, was being literal.
He wasn’t buying it.  I filled him in on Jack’s recommendations starting with the dryer mental health plan and ending with the polar bears.  My hubby rolled his eyes and turned to leave when he spied my tools behind the dryer.  “What tools are you using?” He asked in a mildly screamy way.   Refusing to be daunted by the blinding realization that I was fixing the dryer with kitchen utensils I stood my ground. 
“Tin snips?” He looked at me in amazement.
“Bread knife!” I countered.  As the look of incredulity took hold I quickly picked up my kitchen scissors, “Plan B!” I shouted.
“It’s metal,” he tried explaining.
"It’s tin foil!” I attacked, bending the extra dryer pipe to display its flimsiness.
“Screwdriver?” He asked as if pleading for mercy.
“Butter knife….” I sing songed, holding up a very sturdy specimen of a butter knife, not the slightest bit sharp and very good at moving in circles.

I smiled proudly.

He turned on his heel and left.

My victory complete, I said a little prayer that I wouldn’t maim myself with the bread knife and set to finishing my project.  My victory would not be as sweet if my hubby had to take me to the emergency room. 

It wasn’t until later in the afternoon I realized my guys’ point: I fixed the dryer without visiting the toolbox.  Though it is desperately old school, I used my familiar tools, kitchen things, to meet the needs I faced.  Embarrassing but true, why use tin snips when I have a 20 year old bread knife right in front of me?  We use the tools we are given.  Have you ever noticed that some of your friends have ministries, or Jesus work, they do with their lives? 

Two girlfriends come to mind.  The first is ridiculously practical: task completion, one foot in front of the other is her gift.  Which is why, at any given time, she has befriended women who are devastated by divorce.  With patience, she sits at kitchen tables, listening to broken hearts and then sets to moving boxes, cleaning garages or delivering paperwork.  She hasn’t become a certified social worker, she uses the time and resources she has putting women on their feet again.

The second collects waifs and strays.  Her home is a safe place for Christian kids who have messy lives.   If you think Christian lives aren’t messy, you might need to reread some bible stories.  In considering her latest furniture purchases, she chose couches that could double as beds because inevitably there will a teen body that comes for a night but stays for a weekend.  Her ability to support kids while honoring their parents is god given.

When I was younger, I used to compare my life to others wondering why I didn’t do the amazing things my friends were doing.  Now I’m older one of the blessings I enjoy is recognizing the many ways people contribute to their communities.  One woman visits families in hospitals another works with 20 somethings.  Though the work may be different in size or scope, it is significant work that effects real change. There are few things that surpass investing in the lives of others. 

I hope this note doesn’t find you discouraged my friend, thinking that you aren’t doing enough for the kingdom if all you can do is drop off extra soup at a sick friends.  Sometimes, amazing life change happens over a cup of coffee and a Kleenex box.  We serve a God who can pack big meaning into little things.  He loves to hide victory in human weakness and simple faith.

So pick up your tools and get to it.

I’m praying for you this week,

xoxKaren