THE TOOL MAN PASSES

It was nine months ago today that my father lost his battle with prostate cancer. Last year in the Lenten devotional, I named him the "tool man" as I honored his work of caring for his church property. He dedicated his time to keeping the house of God in good repair, and he had a wealth of tools for every possible kind of job.

Last Fall as I was packing up his house for sale, I was amazed at just how many tools he actually owned, not just the diversity, but the duplicity and antiquity of tools. There were 10 toolboxes, eight sets of socket wrenches, a dozen hammers, more than 50 screw drivers and many partially used rolls of duct tape. There were even tools so unusual that only my father would have known their use. The idea occurred to me that these tools should be passed along to his sons, grandsons and greatgrandsons, so the task of creating a rite of passage began.

A toolbox was prepared for each of his great-grandsons that contained a wood handled hammer and screwdrivers, a set ofsocket wrenches, vice grip pliers, a tape measure and pencils, adjustable wrenches, a level and a slightly used roll of duct tape (and no sharp objects). A letter of explanation was written for each toolbox that read:

Dear Caleb, Tommy, Gabriel and Tyler,

The tools in this box belonged to your great-grandfather Martin Hanke (Sept. 3, 1917 – June 22, 2005). He used these tools to build, to repair, to tighten, to replace. He took very good care of his tools, and now I am passing them on to you. He also used these tools to serve God and bring glory to God's kingdom. I am asking you to continue caring for these tools and let them serve God as you work in His world and do His will. May God bless you.

- Grandpa

In the weeks leading to Christmas, I was blessed with the opportunity to deliver these toolboxes to four young boys who are now called to carry on a very important tradition. It is my constant prayer that I may join them and their fathers in this dedication to doing God's work, and that these tools allow the memory of the tool man to live on.

— Myron Hanke

Courtesy of The Church of the Good Shepherd United Methodist