Passing The Torch

Passing the torch is all about time. (I wish I had gotten a pic of Caleb turning the wrenches.)

Until just recently, the most reliable vehicle at the Johnson house was a second owner, kept in the family, 2000 Ford F250 7.3L turbo diesel with 280,000 miles. (It’s still second most reliable behind the recently purchased Volvo mom sedan). It’s been a great truck but it’s 20 years old and stuff breaks.

So, it didn’t surprise me when Caleb called me Thursday to tell me he thought the power steering pump had given up. Because of its age and my Boy Scout days, I knew there was power steering fluid behind the back seat. We made a plan to get it home and cleaned it out to take it to the shop.

There was a time I would have tackled the job myself either because of a tight budget or just wanting to learn. I mean it’s already broke, I can’t break it more, right? (I am wise enough to know now that’s not true.) But this time I was tired and didn’t want to mess with it.

At work Friday, it seemed like no matter how hard I worked, I couldn’t get anything checked of the to do list. Many of the projects I am working on are going to be always in progress. I found myself looking for easy tasks to get finished with just for the sense of accomplishment. So, I texted Caleb and asked if he wanted to try to change the power steering pump in the truck.

What started out to me as just needing to feel the accomplishment of a completed task was really a divine appointment, a moment orchestrated by God.

By the time I got home, Caleb had YouTubed how to change it out, found the part at a local store, discovered the first owner had upgraded the pump on the truck, removed the air filter and battery box. It turns out he was pretty excited about the task too.

We worked our way to the power steering pump one step at a time. I found myself hogging the wrenches and decided to hand them off to Caleb and be his gopher for a change. I doubt Caleb would articulate this moment the same way but from my vantage point, a flicker turned to a flame right before me. Wind filled the sails of his journey to being an adult, a man. Light radiated from his eyes.

Now maybe he was just excited about fixing the truck, learning a new skill or just being the one to hold the wrenches for a change. But for me, it was a wake up call. It was a reminder that while I have invested in my kids’ lives a lot already, now ain’t the time to put that work into neutral.

Over the last few years, I have worked a lot of hours, come home tired and plopped down in front of some brain dead entertainment that requires little thought. I am proud of how I have worked to provide for my family and incredibly thankful for the strength and opportunity to do so. But, I wouldn’t trade that for moments like this with my kids.

My father wasn’t around to teach me how to build and fix stuff. I didn’t see him for nearly two decades. I understand he could do almost anything. He was a mechanic , machinist, carpenter and redneck engineer. He built and remodeled our houses. Yet, aside from genes, he didn’t pass any of that along to me.

YouTube didn’t exist yet and the only way to search how to fix things involved microfilm, the card catalog and encyclopedias. When Mom remarried, my stepdad (but I called him Dad) helped me get an old Mustang running and taught me how to change the oil, change the brakes, change a tire and so much more. When I went to college, I volunteered at a local Habitat for Humanity. There I met a retired shop teacher from Harnett County named Mr. Byrd. I learned so much from him over the course of that year. I am grateful for these influences. There have been many others along the way.

My father was physically absent but it dawns in me I have been physically here but have been checked out too often. Which is worse? The result is the same for both.

By God’s grace I will check completely back in. My goal is to completely download everything I can into my kids’ lives while I still have breath. My goal is, that while my kids may have other influences and mentors, it will be in addition to my influence, not in place of it.

Men, will you join me? Will you hold me accountable? It seems intimidating but after this weekend, I know it isn’t some grand effort. It’s just looking for ways to launch your kids into life as prepared as possible and it’s done one small chunk of time at a time. Just one small chunk of intentional time over and over.

Today, we got out the pressure washer and went to work on the driveway. I asked Caleb to get the blower and get the debris off the driveway. When it was taking a while for him to show back up I turned around to see he had the blower apart trying to get it to crank. Like, cover off and pieces all over the garage floor apart. At first I was a little aggravated. But I went back to work pressure washing and in 10 minutes he had it put back together and running.

I didn’t teach him that directly, although he has watched me wrestle with a chainsaw or two.

Perhaps the torch has been passed already.

Your fellow sojourner,
Carl