I appreciated Jack for many reasons. not the least of which was that he could fix almost any beeping, bleeping problem that came along. You never get tired of a talent like that. He instinctively asked informed, useful questions. He’d assess the likely causes of the problem du jour, prioritize what steps to take, which tools to use, and the approach that made the most sense. He’d figure out which wire to toggle first, why this machine probably made that noise, where best to stop the drip before it morphed into a full stream. Watching the man problem-solve was a thing of beauty.
My job, on the other hand, was to hold the flashlight and bring a beer when he was done. I realize this was not an equitable division of labor, but what can I say. It worked.
Of course, there were the occasional times when he had no idea what to do, when he’d met his match, when he was just plain stumped. He found this state of affairs deeply unsetting. Somehow, he reasoned, he should be able to figure it out, should be able to make the pieces work — and yet, he had to concede some stuff he was powerless to fix.
Life is like that, too, haven’t you found? Like the news that brings us up short, interrupts our regularly scheduled lives, and exchanges what’s familiar for shards of life we cannot Krazy glue back into place. What do we do with the deepening realization that we can’t, no matter what, ever have our old lives back before the cancer was diagnosed, or the child was jailed, or the spouse walked out, or the friend died? And what can we do for others when it happens to them? How can we shed a little light on them as they puzzle over what to do next?
I’m sure you have your list, which I would love to hear. Mine has been growing as days grow into months and months stretch into years. It includes companionship, tulips, Kleenex, notes, spicy ribs, anonymous mailbox chocolates, phone calls, and prayer. I’ve lost track of all the times I have been spurred on by the arrival of hope and light in ways as individual as each giver. How often I have found out that a friend woke up to pray for me “for some reason” during a hard night. How often has an email popped up in my inbox, or a text has beeped on my phone, or a letter has arrived at my front door, just when life was getting especially hairy. How particular has been the clarity God’s given when I have been at the end of myself and not known what to do, or even how to begin to figure out what needs to be done.
Having you near, holding the flashlight, is a mighty comfort! Thank you, friends!