My tools have always been pathetic. Screwdrivers with handles that spin with the screw and pliers with teeth that must grind at night while I sleep because they never get a tight grip on the job. I bought them ad hoc, only when I needed them. Got what I paid for. So last year I decided to make sure my kids would have it better. I started giving them tools for Christmas. They wondered what they’d done wrong. Showed me their Santa wish lists. No tools. Just an extra gift, I assured them. I figure if I build them a solid Craftsman toolbox over the years, when they are old, they will rise up and call me blessed.
In Anne Lamott’s new book, “Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith,” she reflects on the tools we all need to live well.
“It’s funny: I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox, full of shiny tools: the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, the sandpaper of patience. But when I grew up I found that life handed you these rusty, bent old tools – friendships, prayer, conscience, honesty – and said, Do the best you can with these, they will have to do. And mostly, against all odds, they’re enough.”
Rusty, bent old friendships keep you from suffering or celebrating alone. Friends like that don’t run at the first sign of tragedy or triumph. They are with you whether or not you make drill team, pass the bar, or drive a Suburban.
They care about who you are more than what you are.
Prayer is friendship with God. Through prayer, you discover that whose you are is more important even than who you are. God alone stands by you in life and death.
Conscience is the moral rudder on freedom. It’s the small voice inside your head that sounds strangely like your mother or father, your first-grade teacher, your spouse, your minister, your God. They remind you that your life affects everyone who knows you and loves you. So do right. Honesty keeps you grounded in the world as it is, instead of flying off to the wasteland of Denial. Facing life with all its pain and promise is the first step to hammering out a life worth living.
Are these the tools your kids are accumulating? Are you giving them dependable tools that will work for life or cheap substitutes that will surely fail over time under pressure?
The rusty, bent old tools that build a life have to be yours before you can give them to your kids. You can’t buy these tools at Sears.
