There’s something magical about all tools. It’s not just the innovation or convenience of a tool, there’s more to it. It’s fascinating how with much time, diligence, and practice with a tool, they become extensions of the user. A person that masters a tool is a sight and or sound to behold.

A tool, regardless of the type, has a distinct look in the hands of someone who has mastered it. And a tool, at least the way I define it, isn’t always made for building or fixing something.

My dad took up golfing later in life, but that didn’t keep him from becoming proficient with the tools of that trade. He golfed his age more than once in his early seventies. I wasn’t as good with the tools of golf clubs. I was better at using the putter like a pick axe and the driver like a non-returning boomerang.

It goes without saying, but tools can be abused and used in ways they were never intended.

My good friend’s dad was a mason. He could make mortar magic with his trowel. It was mesmerizing to watch him work and he could nearly crush rocks with his left hand from gripping 8x8x16’s his whole life.

all tools

At home in my hand

Even after decades removed from using it regularly, there’s still something that feels like home to me when I grip a rugged framing hammer. I couldn’t begin to count the number of thumb and finger nails lost in the quest to master that most basic of tools; my hammer.

There are no shortcuts in mastering a tool that is an extension of our body – when it’s used for its intended purpose.

Like most of you reading, I like the feel of a pen or pencil in my hand. A pencil for designing homes and a pen for writing. I also don’t mind the feel of this keyboard, when my typing and mind isn’t in a funk.

I’m not sure I’ll ever master anything quite as well as I did that framing hammer, but there’s honor in trying – provided the tools are being used for their intended means.

The problem with all tools is that they’re in the hands of folks that live in a fallen world.

I was barely in double digits when I started being taught how to drive. It’s a culture thing for folks that hail from the South. Driving was more than aiming a car down the road. You had to be able to take off uphill, with a clutch, and not roll backward an inch. We also had to be able to handle a car in a power slide on a curved dirt road. (It’s a hillbilly thing).

A car is a great tool, but a dangerous one. Like all tools, the automobile gets misused. I’m guilty. I speed way more than I should… but I never used my hammer for a weapon. Like cowards are now using cars to kill people.

All tools in the hands and minds of wicked people can be used as weapons. God help us.