If I had a hammer….

My husband was not a handyman. When I married him, I thought being mechanically inclined came naturally to most men, and that he’d automatically be my Mr. Fix-it. But when I asked him to do manual labor of any kind, he always bristled. I couldn’t figure it out, but that didn’t stop me from asking or him from complying.

A new seat

One day I thought maybe I was asking beyond his expertise. If I could find a simple task, things would go better. When our old toilet seat cracked, I came home with a new one and asked him to put it on. Two bolts. How hard could it be?

An hour after he started, I returned to inspect (and hopefully praise) him but found him spreading all our bath towels on a flooding floor.

“What happened?” I said.

“I couldn’t get the bolts off the old toilet seat, so I tried to hammer them off. That’s when water started pouring out the bottom!”

Not being mechanical myself, I hadn’t noticed the bolts were old metal ones, rusted and stuck. I probably would have used a hammer, too. The bottom line was a cracked toilet bowl that had to be replaced.

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Hammer

Remembering this incident reminded me of something I heard last week about unnecessary use of a hammer: “If a hammer is the only tool you have, everything looks like a nail.”

Isn’t that sometimes true of the way we try to get the attention of certain people in our lives? Sometimes we’re so passionate about making our point we “hammer it home” with excessive force when force isn’t needed.

Jesus described himself as gentle (Matthew 11:29), which didn’t preclude him from using force in the rare situations that warranted it. But he taught us by his consistent example that the most powerful tool was usually to use gentleness. That makes sense, since disproportionate force closes people off and prevents them from even hearing us.

Concerning the toilet bowl incident, a better approach would have been for Nate and I to have had a gentle discussion early in our marriage exploring why he disliked mechanical tasks so much. It would have saved a good deal of unnecessary angst and offense. Thankfully, we finally did that, and I learned the simple answer to the problem: he’d never been taught to do the tasks I was asking him to do. He certainly gets credit for trying, though, and I wish I’d given him more of it.

Tools

Eventually God surprised us when he endowed several of our children with the natural mechanical abilities our family (and our house) needed. And they knew how to use all kinds of tools…. not just hammers.

Paul said, “What do you prefer? Shall I come to you with a rod of discipline, or shall I come in love and with a gentle spirit? (1 Corinthians 4:21)

Loss or Gain?

Nate's mailThis week Nate got two pieces of mail, reminders of someone who used to live with us but now is missing. One envelope even said, “We want you back!” It used to hurt when this kind of thing happened, but after 3½ years, it doesn’t zap me like it used to. I know my heart is healing, and I’m grateful.

But there will be more pain-producing moments in the future. It’s true for all of us, since no life is without its share of grief. If we aren’t dealing with a loved one’s death, we’re processing other losses – a job, a prodigal child, a bank account, an opportunity, a friendship, a home.

Of the billions who’ve lived on the earth, not one has escaped travail. We can trace that back to the first humans when they lost Eden, and that was just for starters. Never, as long as we live, will there be a loss-less life.

So how do we cope with such a dismal prospect?

Surely God doesn’t want us to live on red-alert beneath a banner that says, “WATCH OUT!” Scripture tells us, “The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning.” (Ecclesiastes 7:4) This probably means that as we move through life’s losses from grief to healing, we somehow gain wisdom along the way. If life is hunky-dory, we don’t learn much.

The biblical Paul insisted that every struggle he endured (when persecuted for his faith) was minor compared to what he gained in the way of salvation. This was quite a mouthful, considering all he’d experienced:

  • temporary blindness
  • 195 lashes (He kept track.)
  • 3 beatings with rods
  • 1 stoning with intent to kill
  • 3 shipwrecks at sea
  • multiple robberies
  • unnumbered whippings
  • intense physical pain
  • severe thirst and hunger
  • extreme cold without proper clothes
  • multiple imprisonments
  • the deaths of friends

Each of these included painful loss and a struggle to heal, physically and also emotionally. But Paul was willing, actually eager, to tackle trouble for two reasons:       (1) to testify to God’s bringing him through; and (2) to grow in wisdom.

Most of us won’t have to cope with such a list of agonies. But as we endure different losses, we have a choice: to respond as Paul did, leaning into God’s sustenance, or to resist healing, clinging to our losses.

Pregnant Katy

When I see Nate’s name in my mail, I miss him a great deal, but I no longer cry over the envelopes, a credit to God, not me. As the Giver of all gifts, he’s shown me he continues to give, in the midst of our losses. Hans and Katy’s new baby will be born in a week or so, and soon after that we’ll witness Klaus and Brooke’s wedding. Nate won’t be with us for either of these major events, but just like Paul, I have a choice. I can continue weeping over my loss, or I can rejoice in my gains.

The choice is easy.

“Do not say, ‘Why were the old days better than these?’ For it is not wise to ask such questions.” (Ecclesiastes 7:10 )

A Phobia?

Last night after I’d finished writing a blog about snakes, Birgitta and I talked about my snake-aversion. “Is it a phobia?” she said.

The dictionary defines “phobia” as persistent, irrational fear of something specific that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it. The answer is yes. But as we talked, Birgitta tried to dispel my fear by Googling a few facts.

She typed “Michigan snakes” into the search bar, forcing me to jump to a chair where I wouldn’t see the screen when pictures appeared.

Phobia for sure.

I know God is working on me, though, trying to rid me of it. Last spring Klaus found a dead snake (a blue racer) in our driveway, apparently run over by a car. As a joke he tucked it under Louisa’s windshield wiper. But wouldn’t you know, it was me who drove the car next, and of course it was drizzling. When the wiper blade shot up, the snake came with it, looking right at me and wiggling as if alive. I didn’t sleep for days.

Then last summer while walking Jack, I saw another run-over snake, this one brown and black. And last fall while riding bikes, we passed a yard-long garter snake traveling on the edge of our road. That’s 3 snakes in 3 seasons, a sure sign God is having his way with me.

Birgitta narrowed her Google search to SW Michigan and read aloud, hoping to prove my fear was irrational. But she kept coming up against facts she said I wouldn’t like, such as: many snakes have 30 to 50 young every year. My mind flashed a picture of snake-carpet covering our entire neighborhood, and my phobia strengthened.

Birgitta said, “When did your fear get started?”

We pinned it down to a 1951 family vacation in Florida. Mary (age 7) and I (age 5) had come across a poisonous coral snake in the yard behind our motel, and Dad’s reaction was uncharacteristic of him. “Stand back!” he yelled. “Get away!” as he attacked with a broom. That probably started my snakes-are-bad mentality.

Studying Genesis and “the serpent of old”* didn’t help, especially after I noticed that the snake was the only animal God ever cursed.**

Whatever the cause of my phobia, I know beyond doubt the Lord is offering to help. As I climbed the stairs to face another worrisome night, Google’s statement that snakes don’t do steps (since they can’t bend to 90 degrees) was reassuring. Then, surprisingly, as I crawled between the sheets, God gave me a tiny sliver of consideration for snakes: no hands, no feet, afraid of mankind, divinely cursed, and always eating dust. It’s not much of a life.

Cartoon snake

Maybe some distant day, we’ll even be friends.

This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: “Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. In quietness and confidence is your strength.” (Isaiah 30:15)

*Revelation 12:9, 20:2    ** Genesis 3:14