A Box of Nuts and Bolts

It must have been in the early 80's that I received a rather heavy Christmas present. If was from my friend, Frank. Frank and Michele lived across the street from us. Their children were of comparable ages to ours, their interests ran along similar lines as ours and we became (and still are) fast friends.

We were not poor, but we had to watch our money, and it was no different with Frank and Michele, and perhaps even a little more so.

That is the context in which I received this present. Frank and Michele brought their gifts over a couple of days before Christmas. I couldn't help but be puzzled by the weight as I took one of the gifts from Frank and set it under the tree. I almost dropped it out of surprise for its weigth and mass.

I honestly don't recall if I spent much time wondering about it for the few days leading up until Christmas. I do recall opening it with some anticipation since its weight was so intriguing. I will have to confess I was taken aback just a bit when I saw that it contained nuts and bolts. Hundreds of nuts and bolts and screws and washers of every imaginable size.

When we visited Frank and Michele later that day Frank asked if I liked his gift and told me that he had put a box to one side at the moving and storage companied managed and just tossed in whatever hardware had come his way during the course of the previous month or so.

I thanked him for it, but I was still rather taken aback that he would give me something like that -- almost a joke.

The box went out into the garage and sat on a shelf. When I had to fix the lawnmower or a bicycle or a swing I would dig around in the box and invariably find what I needed.

Eventually the box gave way to a plastic tub. Every once in a while I would disassemble something and toss the screws, washers and nuts in the tub, but that was fairly infrequently. When we moved across town, the tub followed us to our new home and found a place on a shelf in the garage.

The other day I cleaned the battery posts and cable terminal for my riding lawnmower. One of the screws had been corroded away in a rather significant manner. It wasn't until I had gone into the garage and started digging around in the old plastic tub that it occurred to me what an enduring and essential gift that box of nuts and bolts had become. I can't even imagine working on something without having access to the tub of nuts and bolts. It is indispensible.

There is a parallel between that box of nuts and bolts and the atoning sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ. Our first instinct might be to say "Is that all there is?" Somewhat like the hardware, it seems rather useless when considered out of context. It's not until later and wiser years that we realize how incredibly indespensible is the Atonement. We may not think about it much (although we should) until something in our life breaks. Suddenly we remember. The atonement. He understands. He's already carried this burden. This is familiar territory for Him. He has already walked this way. By Himself. In the Garden.

The analogy isn't perfect, and many things aren't fixed in an afternoon, but nonetheless, what seems like a rather insignificant gift has become, over time, more enduring than any other gift. The gift has not changed. My appreciation for it has.