Hand me a wrench

When my youngest son was in elementary school, he took one of our old lawn mowers apart. I remember walking outside to our little piece of cemented patio and seeing it in countless pieces. When I asked what he was going to do next - silly me, assumed he was going to try to put it back together - all he said was, "nothing" and left it in a pile of pieces.

I was angry at first. Not only did he take the lawn mower apart, he just made a big mess. I let it go, because I chalked it up to him just doing what he saw his dad doing all the time... work on engines - taking things apart. What I've come to realize now is that his project that day is very much like life for most of us. Well, at least for me.

If anyone has followed me on my path of life, they have stepped over MANY piles of pieces and projects left undone along the way. What's that saying? "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." That should be enough to scare me to death!

I didn't destroy relationships on purpose. I had every intention of making them work or fixing them. But I got overwhelmed in the midst of it all and too many people got involved and before I knew it, there was a pile of pieces I didn't know how to put back together. So I walked away. I just walked away.

That's how it happens, you know. The wave of panic when you take on the world by yourself. It doesn't seem so bad when there's just a few pieces laying on the ground next to you and you feel like you have the wrench in your hand and you are in control. But then as time goes by, you realize that pile is getting bigger and you didn't really pay as close attention to the placement of the parts as you should have. Your brain starts realizing if you're going to put this thing back together, you have to start paying attention, CLOSE attention. But then the reality of, IT'S TOO LATE hits you, because you didn't pay attention in the beginning and you don't know where all the parts fit. Panic, panic, run, run, RUN!

Walk away... just walk away.

That's how piles of rubble are made. No instruction. All by yourself.

I've left piles of rubble along my path most of my life. And, like my son, I calmly got up from each one and said NOTHING. I was cool, calm and collected on the outside as I walked away from the chaos and rubble that slowly vanished as I walked away. The chaos didn't disappear, I did. I left a trail of parts and pieces, emotional wreckage of friends and loved ones, behind.

Overwhelmed. The dictionary defines overwhelmed as "completely overcome or overpowered by thought or feeling." Completely overcome by - okay, I can admit to that. Completely overpowered by... no. Overpowered by means I didn't have a choice. I had a choice. There were options. I chose to do it alone. I chose not to ask for help. I chose to do it without instruction. I chose to let it get so bad that my insides shook and my chest hurt when my world was falling apart. My choices. Those were MY choices. No one overpowered me... but me. As I think back on some of those relationships now, I wonder how I have anyone left in my life.

Jesus.

Jesus is the only reason I have anyone left. I have no idea how many lawn mowers He's rebuilt... I took them apart, I panicked, I prayed, and He graciously gathered up the pile of rubble and put them back together. But nothing happens until I hand Him the wrench that I so freely use to cause destruction. Not only does He need it to fix my mess, it's my daily reminder that He is in control. The Creator of all things, visible and invisible, the God for which nothing is impossible, has it under control.

And if I truly believe that, then why would I WANT to be in control? Why would I NOT want Him to hold the wrench?

Therein, lies the struggle. It's hard to give up the tool box. I have willingly handed Him the wrench and then snatched it back out of His hand over and over and over again. Why? Why do I do that? It's not like I know how to fix the mess or put the pieces back together, so why do I want the wrench? It makes no sense!

For me, part of it comes from all the years of feeling like I HAD to do everything by myself - before I knew Jesus. For so many years I couldn't rely on anyone else, couldn't trust anyone else. I held on tight to that wrench, not because I wanted to, but because I felt I didn't have a choice. And during those years, the messes I made and the piles of rubble I left, weren't just emotional wreckage of friends and loved ones, those piles had pieces of me in them.

When Jesus rescued me, the first mess He put back together was me.

I may look the same on the outside, but I am made new by Him. The parts and pieces destroyed by my past have all been touched by His hands as He put me back together... carefully, thoughtfully, piece by piece. And these pieces still remember every bit of where I came from, but they also are grateful for the mercy and grace of His loving kindness that make me who I am today.

I still reach for the wrench every once in a while, but it's not so hard to give up anymore. Waves of mercy and grace are gentle reminders of the Lord's handiwork. It's comforting knowing His hands hold the wrench.

How cool is it that the same God who created mountains and oceans and galaxies looked at you and thought the world needed one of you, too. ~ Unknown

Colossians 1:16 ESV

For by Him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through Him and for Him.