LynchNW Blog

A writer I admire - Edward Welch - describes hope as the combination of eagerness and confidence.

One of my favorite parts of what we do is the packaging.  Riley packs and ships most of the kit we send out, but I still jump in and help a few times a week.  I love assembling all the pieces that make up a box - the ‘thank you’ card, the clip and screws, a couple stickers - and sending it out the door.  For me, the act of putting an order together is a very personal thing.  Someone has entrusted their hard-earned money to us, and in return we’re sending them something we’ve made, something that I earnestly hope will reward that trust.  I want the person whose name is on the box to open the package and be glad they’ve invested in what’s inside.   

One reason I take the time to hand-write each person’s name on the enclosed card is because I value that personal connection.  Believe me, I understand that we’re not making insulin or a critical Ford brake component or something else that has a profound impact on someone’s ability to live their life.  But I also understand that people can find small glimpses of joy in something small, something that was made with care, something that contributes to their enjoyment of carrying a knife or using a hand tool.  To have the opportunity to contribute to a person's life in that way - no matter how modestly - is an amazing privilege.  It’s not something I take for granted, and that’s why we work to produce the most perfect parts we’re able to.  Though I know that what we’re making in the shop won’t dramatically alter anyone’s existence, I want the part in that box to positively affect the recipient, no matter how small that impact may be.  I want it to be something they can use, count on and enjoy.  

The reason I began this blog with a description of hope is because it’s human nature to think that the next thing we get in the mail will make us content, or complete, or fulfilled.  We all have the tendency to await that next package with eagerness for its arrival, and with confidence that this thing - whatever it is - will finally relieve that dull ache that we can’t quite pinpoint.  I’ve done it myself.  Many times.  But that kind of hope will always disappoint.  

I can’t overstate how appreciative we are of the people who support what we do and who buy our parts.  LynchNW provides the livelihood for over a dozen families.  We’re only able to do that because of the kind people who purchase our work.  We are passionate about what we do, and we want our customers to enjoy our parts, get tons of use and mileage out of what we make, and feel like they spent their money well.  When it comes to spending money and enjoying material things, I’m no different than anyone reading this.  I have way more knives than any one person needs.  I have a couple bikes I spent way too much cash on, and that I get enormous amounts of pleasure from.  But I’ve learned the painful and sobering lesson that those things - no matter how fond of them I am - won’t provide long term contentment or peace.  That fleeting moment of joy will wear off.  In my experience, lasting hope can be found in only one place - at the feet of the one who’s birth we celebrate this time of year.  That's why I've chosen to put my hope in Him alone.  Some days that's easy, and some days that's hard.  But in either circumstance, I'm convinced that it's true.

I hope this late December note finds the reader well.  Thanks for all the support you’ve given LynchNW over the past 12 months, and Merry Christmas to you and yours.