Thumbtacks and Screws

By Joey Tripoli

He said, “I miss the red curtains.”

I told him, “I do too.”

He said, “I wish our house

was stuck together

with tape…

and glue…

and thumbtacks…

and screws.”

We live in a world where things break. Homes. Families. Hopes and dreams… Falling apart is just too easy. In fact, it’s inevitable…without a Carpenter.

Meet Jesus. Or rediscover him as your Carpenter. The One who “stands at your door and knocks,” ready to come in and fix all that’s broken. He’s the only One who can. Despite every tool you’ve got in that giant toolbox of yours, it’s not enough. We simply don’t have what it takes to “hold it together.”

But with Jesus, everything changes! He can rebuild, redeem, and restore any life. He can make your life beautiful! That’s what he came here to do. That’s why he stands at your door, and knocks. But it’s up to you to say, “Come in.” Let his love, his sacrifice, and his grace fill your heart, build your faith, and renew your spirit.

And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful. (Revelation 21:5, KJV)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638853701

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Thumbtacks and Screws

Sixteen Years Later

Tough as Nails

The Same

The Author and Finisher

Hell-Bent on Heaven

A Walk in the Moonlight

Unstuck

Satin Blindfold

Father, Forgive Them

There's a Lion at the Door!

In the Meantime

Not-a-Dream

He Remembers

He Knows

Afterglow

Jericho

No Rituals

Perfect Prayers

Going for Broke

Curtain Call

It Happened Again

Don't Spill the Beans!

Badda Bing Badda Boom

Cat Lady

Contentment

Scars

For Keeps

The Old Rugged Cross

Lamb of God

At the Scent of Water

Speaking of Hope…

Movin' On

He Saves the Best for Last

Still Mine

Afterthoughts and Altar Call

About the Author

cover.jpg

Thumbtacks and Screws

Joey Tripoli

ISBN 978-1-63885-369-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63885-370-1 (Digital)

Copyright © 2021 Joey Tripoli

All rights reserved

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

Thumbtacks and Screws

He said, I miss the red curtains.

I told him, I do too.

He said, "I wish our house

was stuck together

with tape…

and glue…

and thumbtacks…

and screws."

I said,

"It's not where we live,

honey…

it's who we got.

We'll always have each other,

and that's way more than a lot!

Maybe someday,

you'll understand,

Why we couldn't stay."

Oh, God, please help him understand…

I don't know another way.

"I know you miss the red curtains,

where the sun poured in each day…

the soft velvet across your face,

where you used to hide and play.

I know you want just one house,

instead of having two…

But we couldn't hold it together,

baby…

Not even with tape

or glue.

I'm so sorry,

sweetheart…

and I know that you're confused.

But we couldn't hold it together…

not even with

thumbtacks and screws."

This was the conversation I had with my three-year-old son…sixteen years ago. He and I were getting up one morning in our new apartment. I was explaining to him that he and I were going to live there now, but that he still had his house with Daddy too. I told him he had two houses now.

He told me he just wanted one.

My heart sank. And it's still there, in the pit of my stomach. Hasn't come up for a breath. Sixteen years later, and I still can't read my own poem without choking on it. I can't write this story without crying. But I'm going to anyway. Here it goes.

I told him we couldn't hold it together. That some things had broken, fallen apart. I explained that we'd have two houses now. And then he offered up the best idea a three-year-old could come up with. He said, Maybe we could use some tape…or glue… Then he used his little fingers like he was counting on them to solve a really complicated math problem. Or thumbtacks…or screws…

O God, please help him understand.

I attempted to comfort him. No, baby, we can't hold it together, not even with tape or glue, not even with thumbtacks or screws.

And then we talked about the pretty red curtains and how we both missed them. I loved those curtains too. They were heavy velvet drapes, from the Pottery Barn, way too expensive for a young couple just building a house, but I had to have them.

Joshua, my son, used to love playing behind those curtains. They were perfect for hide-and-seek because they were so thick.

The big moving drapes were always a dead giveaway, but I'd play along. I'd call out his name and peek behind the couch, under the coffee table, in the kitchen pantry—everywhere. Until finally, in one last-ditch effort, I'd pull back the red curtains and see his sweet little face smiling back at me.

Joshua! There you are! I'd jump back, acting surprised. And he'd erupt into a fit of laughter.

One more time! he'd say, as he pulled the red curtain in front of him, all over again. It was never just one more time, but it never got old. Not to either of us.

Man, do I miss those days when joy came so simply and laughter so easily. But just like our red curtains, they're a memory now. We wouldn't be living there anymore. We couldn't hold it together.

Sixteen Years Later

…and I'm still trying. Trying my best to hold it together. Trying to keep my world from falling apart. Trying to pick up the pieces that have already shattered and put them back where they belong. Sixteen years later, and I finally figured it out—I can't.

You see, I just don't have what it takes. But before you look down on me—take a look in the mirror. Because neither do you. Neither of us have the tools to hold our lives together. We don't have the ability. The wisdom. The strength. We don't have whatever it is we need. And anything we do have, or think we have, just isn't enough. I don't care what's in your toolbox: tape, glue, thumbtacks, or screws…money, charm, talent, or time…good looks, good luck, friends in high places, or in low places…family, connections, or influence…the best experiences, the best education…even the best work ethic could never do the job.

Understand this. Admit it. You have nothing. Nothing apart from God. When we think we do, how quickly we learn we don't. Just when we think, I've got this, it falls apart. That's when everything comes crashing down. Believe me, I know.

You wanna hold it together? Give it to Jesus. Your house, your marriage, your children, your family, your job, your dreams, your purpose… Whatever it is you think you have, hope to obtain, or are trying like crazy to keep… Give it to Jesus. Place it in his hands, before it slips through your fingers.

Jesus is our Carpenter. He learned the trade from Joseph. Isn't this the carpenter's son? (Matthew 13:55, NIV). Yes, he learned how to build and make things from his stepdad. But he learned how to build and make lives from his Father. It's a family business, goes all the way back to the beginning.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:1, NIV)

The Word. The Light that cuts through the darkness. Jesus. He was there from the beginning, the beginning of the world, the beginning of your life. He knows exactly what you're made of, and if you've got something that needs fixing, he knows just what to do. He's your Carpenter. And he knows exactly how to build and restore all your broken pieces.

Nothing is impossible for him (Matthew 19:26). Broken homes—he can fix them. Broken relationships—he can fix them. Broken dreams…broken hearts…broken lives—he can fix them.

And he's the only One. He's got what it takes, and he never runs out. You try to do it any other way, and believe me, it won't work. You're gonna lose it. You'll lose whatever you thought you could do on your own. Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain (Psalm 127:1, ESV).

Let me ask you, what is it that you're trying to hold together? What are you clinging to, trying to keep safe between your own two hands? What are you trying to carry with your own strength? What are you working on, working toward? What are you building? What are you striving for day and night? And is it all in vain?

Ask yourself these tough questions, and answer them honestly. Because if you're working toward something that God's not a part of, or something that you haven't submitted to his will, you might be at it for a long, long time! You might be trying to build something your whole life and never have it.

And even if you do…even if you build it up to be huge in your life, if it's not built upon him, it's sure to crumble. If he's not the foundation, it'll fall. For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 3:11, ESV). He has to be the foundation of everything in your life. If it's not built upon him, it won't last, and believe me, you don't want it.

Put down your tools, and ask God, Is this even your will for me? Do you even want this? Tell him, I don't want it, if you don't. And remember, you may be a master craftsman (or woman) but you're not too crafty for God, so don't say it unless you mean it. 'Cause he'll see straight through all your shiny coats of paint and glossy finish.

Listen carefully, you can't build your house without the Lord. It won't stand. He doesn't care about your curb appeal. It doesn't matter how perfect it looks from the outside. Bricks and mortar quickly turn to sand. And when the rain comes (and it will), your beautiful castle will be nothing but a pile of wet, soppy dirt. Nothing but a memory. Just like my red curtains.

Don't wait for the rain to fall. Ask Jesus, today, to build your house, your marriage, your family, your everything. Ask him to hold it together for you, every single day. Devote it to him, give it to him, submit it to him. Ask him for his wisdom in how to keep it safe and out of harm's way. Ask him to protect it from all of life's storms. Ask him for the grace to love and nourish all it holds. Ask him for forgiveness to cover the shortcomings of all who live there, including your own. Ask him for patience and perseverance because no one said it'd be easy. And above all, ask him for love because love covers a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8). Ask him for everything he's got, 'cause you're gonna need it. And because without it, you labor in vain.

For every house is built by someone, but the builder of all things is God. (Hebrews 3:4, NASB)

He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. (Colossians 1:17, NASB)

I am the vine, you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. (John 15:5, NIV)

He couldn't make it more clear. What's not to understand? Without him, we can't do it. We cannot even hold ourselves together, let alone a family or anything else, without the grace and power of Jesus Christ living in us.

Without his ability to love and forgive, without his enduring compassion and faithfulness, we are useless and will never hold it together. You see, it takes more than tape…and glue…and thumbtacks…and screws…

It took nails.

Tough as Nails

Nails. Had Jesus not taken those nails, there would be no restoration. No promise of a better day. Had he not bore our sins, we'd never rise above them. We'd stay just the way we are—our hands in shackles, our hearts in shambles. Our lives would wear away and fall apart, and that's it. There'd be no putting us back together, no fixin' things at all. Not without those nails.

Yes, it took nails. But listen to this: As tough as those nails were, they weren't actually what held him to the cross. There was something even tougher. The real driving force behind his sacrifice was his unconditional, unequalled love for each one of us.

His love, which knows no bounds, bound him to a criminal's death. His love, which cannot be restrained, restrained him to a wooden cross. His love, which cannot be contained, held him there—when he could have, at any moment, walked away. He could have called down all of heaven's angels to set him free. He could have freed himself, if he wanted to, and shown every scoffing spectator and soldier exactly who he was. But he didn't. He loved us too much to leave. Yeah, his love was tough as nails, and then some. Still is.

It's stronger and more powerful than anything else in this world. Nothing can conquer it. Nothing. It's a burning fire that all the powers of hell cannot prevail against. His love consumes, prevails, remains. We can trust it. But I trust in your unfailing love (Psalm 13:5, NIV).

His love is the only thing that can hold you together when your whole world is falling apart. His love can restore you from shattered pieces on your kitchen floor, into a beautiful vessel, in his hands. His love can move you from bondage to freedom. His love can heal you, when nothing else even offers you hope. His love can change your life. It can change everything. There's nothing stronger.

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. (1 Corinthians 13:1–8, NIV)

Tough as Nails

His love holds on,

Tough as nails.

Nothing stronger.

His love prevails.

It's the only thing

That held him there,

And the only thing

That keeps him near.

It'll hold you close,

Hold you together.

It'll hold you now,

Hold you forever.

It's all you need,

It's tough as nails.

His love remains.

It never fails.

That's just it. It never fails. That's why we can be, and need to be, so reliant on his love. It's our only sure bet. It's the only thing that can accomplish what nothing else can. And without it, there's not a whole lot we can do. Not even our prayers amount to much without love. It's the power behind everything.

I realized this one morning, while in prayer for something that I was kind of half-hearted about. Without even thinking about it first, I said, God, it's hard to fight for something you don't love.

Then I stopped to think about it. It was true. I know because, on the contrary, I have some prayers that are so wrapped in love, they cannot fail. Such prayers have divine strength.

Has anyone ever told you, Those are fightin' words!? Well, I'm talking about fightin' prayers! You know what I mean. Those prayers that are so filled with love, you know they're doing some major damage (to the enemy, that is). Love is what's behind the fight and produces the faith. There's not a doubt in my mind, when it comes to these prayers, the answer's coming! Victory's right around the corner! I know it! Makes sense, faith works by love (Galatians 5:6).

Nothing can conquer it. Nothing's tougher. But the greatest of these is love (1 Corinthians 13:13, NIV). This is why love is our best weapon. It's also why it's Satan's biggest target.

He hates love. He doesn't know what to do with it. He has none. Never has, never will. And he doesn't want us to either. He knows he can't stand against it; he's never been a match for God's love. So he resorts to a different tactic—a clever strategy, really. Instead of trying to wipe it out (because he knows he can't), he's taken the opposite approach. He's made the idea of love so broad and vague, to the point it's almost become meaningless. He can't take away the power of love, but if he can take away the meaning, then he's halfway there.

And so he's satiated the world with his definition of love, in hopes that we'll forget God's definition, and in doing so, be left powerless. Think about it, we all overuse the word love. I do. I say things like, I love coffee… I love spaghetti… I love sleeping in… There are a million things I love. But who cares? What's that gonna do? Nothing. Satan's not threatened by that kind of love. That kind of love is harmless. It can't change hearts, it can't win battles, and it can't save lives.

So yeah, he's good with that kind of love. And he's working overtime trying to redefine all love into just that. A watered-down, counterfeit of the real thing. He waters it down, wrings it out…waters it down, wrings it out… He just keeps at it, little by little, in hopes that it'll eventually lose its power. But real love cannot lose its power. Real love is power.

And it's all that'll be left, when everything else fades away. What is real love? Let's look at what the Bible says. There is no greater love than to lay down one's life for one's friends (John 15:13, NLT). The love of Christ. That's real love. And nothing can stand against it. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails (1 Corinthians 13:7–8, NIV).

The Same

When they've all turned their backs,

When they've all gone their way,

When they've said what they said,

And there's nothing left to say,

When they've all raised their fists,

Their voice and their game,

And they've thrown all their stones

Of accusation and blame,

When you've taken each hit,

In the head and the heart,

And you can't stand no more

'Cause they've torn you apart,

When you bear the brunt,

And you take the fall,

When you just wanna go,

But can't even crawl,

When you're the butt of their jokes,

And the spice in their tea,

When your tears mean nothing

'Cause they can't even see,

When you'd swear you're alone…

Who could know your pain?

Who else has been there,

And felt just the same?

I have,

He says,

With a scarred,

Outstretched hand,

Ready to lift you,

From where you can't stand.

I have,

He whispers,

As he calls you by name,

"Don't you remember?

They treated me

The same.

But don't you worry,

Your pretty little head,

They couldn't keep me down,

They couldn't keep me dead.

And my very Spirit,

I've placed in your heart.

So don't worry,

My darling,

They can't tear you apart.

You'll rise from these ashes,

You'll rise just like me,

Above all their torment,

Like a prisoner set free.

And in