The Right Tools
Dad looked up from his workbench as Jeremy pedaled his bike into the garage. "Hi, Jeremy. Did you have a good time at Ben's house?" asked Dad.
Jeremy frowned. "Not really," he said, looking upset. He swallowed a sob.
Dad's brows went up. "Why don't you get a snack and then put on some old clothes and come help me?" he suggested. "While we paint the lawn furniture, maybe you can tell me what happened."
Soon Jeremy appeared in old jeans and T-shirt. "Okay, what do we do?"
"Here are the paint and brushes," Dad said, "and now I'll show you how to paint these chairs."
As they got to work, Jeremy poured out his worries. "Brian Parker's mom is sick, Dad, and some kids say she's going to die. I'm his best friend, and I guess I should go see him, but I wouldn't know what to say." Jeremy sniffed loudly.
Dad dipped his brush in white paint and stroked it on a chair arm. "I understand how you feel, but I'm sure Brian needs you now. In situations like this, you often don't have to say much. Just be there and listen. I think you should go."
"I can't do it, Dad. I'm just a kid," choked Jeremy.
Dad nodded. "I know. That's what the prophet Jeremiah said when God told him to preach, but God said it was no excuse. God said He'd give Jeremiah the words to say." Dad motioned toward the chair Jeremy was painting. "When I asked you to help me paint, I supplied the tools and the paint to do the job. When God has a job for us, He also supplies whatever is needed to get the job done. And He gives us the grace to do it. He'll give you the right words to say to Brian-and He'll show you when it's time to just listen."
Jeremy still looked doubtful. Dad put an arm around his son. "Will it help if Mom and I go with you after dinner? I think Brian's family needs us, too. Okay?"
Jeremy nodded. "Having you come along sure would help," he said.
That evening, Jeremy and his parents called on the Parkers, and Mom took along a loaf of fresh, homemade bread. After a short visit, they headed back home. Je
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