Walt’s Wood Shop

The tools we need for our spiritual journey can sometimes stop working.

I was reminded of this in a recent conversation with one of my closest spiritual companions. We’re about the same age, and we found ourselves admitting something that’s been quietly nagging us both: the practices that once fueled our faith don’t seem to have the same spark anymore.

Church attendance and worship? Shrug.
Reading the Bible daily? Still important, but it no longer moves the needle like it used to.
Prayer? Steady, yes — but it feels more like maintenance than momentum.
Devotions, books, podcasts, articles? Occasionally interesting, rarely inspiring.

It’s concerning. I know the value of spiritual disciplines. I’ve practiced dozens. I’ve even named Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline the most influential book of my life.

But lately, those once-powerful practices feel … spent.

Which reminds me of a story from over 50 years ago. Long time readers will remember Walt, who worked decades for us. Here is another Walt story.

I was about 14, working with Walt at the Goble Ranch. Something broke while we were elbow-deep in another project. I don’t remember exactly what it was — let’s say it was something in the electrical system.

Walt, who could fix just about anything, grabbed a few nearby tools and gave it a go. No luck.

Then, without a word, he stood up and walked about 400 feet to his shop. I stood there, confused. Was he giving up? Looking for a replacement part? Should I be doing something?

At some point I started wondering if this was a test. Like, maybe I was supposed to build character while standing around doing absolutely nothing — a spiritual discipline they forgot to put in the Bible.

Eventually, Walt returned with a different tool in hand. In ten seconds, the problem was fixed.

Even then, I knew he was teaching me something important:
The right tool makes all the difference.
We could’ve wasted an hour trying to make the wrong tool work. But Walt knew better. Sometimes, you just have to walk to the wood shop and get what you need.

So here I am, five decades later, realizing I might be holding the wrong tools for this season of my spiritual life. They’ve served me well, but they’re not working right now.

Maybe it’s time to find a new tool. A new discipline. A new practice that meets me where I am today.

I’m not giving up. My faith is strong. I’m just walking to Walt’s Wood Shop.

I’ll let you know what I find.