Strong As A Giant, Real Strength Comes From Humility

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”

— Matthew 11:2

Back when I was in college my dad owned an auto repair garage. On breaks and during the summer I’d come home, turn a few wrenches and drain a lot of oil. One of the best things about working in the garage was the people I got to meet.

Mr. Gib was well into his 80s. He stood over six feet tall and weighed over 350 pounds. It wasn’t just fat, Mr. Gib was one of the strongest men I’ve ever known.

He was a circus performer in his youth and one of the things he did during every perfor- mance was hold a stick of dynamite in each hand. Some lucky kid from the audience was picked to light the fuse.

“I’d hold my hands out like this and turn my head,” Mr. Gib would say. “It’s important to always turn your head because if you don’t powder might get in your eyes and that hurts like the dickens.”

Mr. Gib said they always put something in the dynamite to make it smoke an awful lot.

“There was no trick,” Mr. Gib would proudly proclaim. “It was real dynamite and it made an awful powerful boom.”

When the dynamite went off, smoke would engulf the whole stage.

“I’d shake my hands to get some feeling back and count to 10,” Mr. Gib would whisper in a conspiring way. “Then I’d walk out of the smoke and raise my hands. I was quite a hit.”

Mr. Gib told me that story every time he came into the shop, which was about once a week. After awhile I knew the story by heart. One particular day while changing his oil he started to tell me the story. When he got to the part about the black powder burning his eyes, I said, “Wait, don’t tell me. The powder would burn your eyes.”

It was rude and selfish of me and quite a bit mean. Mr. Gib didn’t have any family and he was quite lonely. The only place he could talk to people was the coffee shop and the garage.

He took a step back and hung his large head down and said, “You don’t believe me.”

No! No! I tried to protest. I made an excuse that I was busy trying to change the oil and shouldn’t have said it.

But then I saw a twinkle in his eye. And he said, “Son, you’ve always been nice to me and always listened to my stories and for that I’m awful grateful.” I told Mr. Gib that it was no problem and I like to hear his stories. And he said, “For that I would like to show you that what I say is the gospel truth.”

He took the seven-eighths inch box-end wrench I was holding, put a hand on each end and bent it into a “u” shape. He handed the wrench back to me and said, “That’s what two sticks of dynamite will do for you.”

I can’t tell you the number of times I tried to bend that wrench back. I even put it in a vise and it wouldn’t even budge.

But there’s another thing I need to tell you about Mr. Gib. As soon as he would pull up he’d give me a piece of paper. On it, scribbled in his handwriting, was a Bible verse. He’d smile and say, “That’s the Good News for today.”

It was always a different verse. And before he left he would give me a $20 for the oil change and say, “Keep the change, God has blessed me today.”

He’d get into his car, call me over and say, “Did you check the tires?” I’d always say, “Yes Sir.” And then he would say, “Good, let me pray.” And he would say a prayer.

I kept Mr. Gib’s wrench for a long time. And to this day, every time I get my oil changed I think about him. I never had the heart to tell him that an oil change cost $21.95. But to me, a couple of bucks was worth hearing a gentle giant pray.

PASTOR TROY CONRAD IS MINISTER OF FARMINGTON UNITED METHODIST CHURCH. EMAIL: FARMINGTONCHURCH@PGTC.COM.

Troy Conrad