Saturday, December 19, 2009

My carpenter

Well, I call him "my" carpenter, but he's not really mine, he just makes all my stuff. The struggle to learn French continues, but weeks ago I needed to have a couple of tables made for my kitchen--shelves and counter top workspace really--so I decided to try a place I had seen on the side of the road. I knew that it would be difficult without a picture and with little French vocabulary in woodworking to describe in a foreign language exactly what I wanted. I prayed that the Lord would bring someone into my path who could help get me what I needed and He did exactly that.


After about 30 minutes of explaining and many gestures, I left. We had settled on a price and he said he understood, but I laughed the entire way home wondering what I would actually end up with when I returned to pick up my items. A day and a half later, when he called to tell me my tables were ready, I thought, "This could be a really great story. No matter what these look like, I can use them somewhere in the house." To my astonishment, when I pulled up to his workshop, these were sitting out front...



If I could have taken a picture of what was in my mind....this was it, exactly. So, thus began what has become for me, a beautiful relationship.

Since that time, my carpenter has made several other projects for me and they have all been great. My carpenter works with hand tools, no electric tools or sanders at all. Just regular, good old-fashioned hand tools. I've done some woodwork in the past and I know that electric tools make the job more efficient, more accurate and so much easier. To do good woodwork, takes time, patience and lots of hard work. My carpenter is always sweating when I see him, not because of the heat, but because of the energy he is expending. He always has a measuring tool with him as well--checking, rechecking and writing things down so he won't forget. And, no matter what I say, there is always something a little extra, some little detail of beauty that my carpenter adds to my pieces. Kinda nice to see, his own personal touch.


This morning, as I was reading about the death and resurrection of C, I started thinking about his life before ministry, as a carpenter. I know that His carpentry workshop must have been similar to that of my carpenter--no power tools, just good hand tools. The smell of lumber and sawdust, and the sound of sawing and hammering. And I wondered, almost pictured, C measuring his lumber and remeasuring, then cutting and constructing perfectly made furniture with his own little touch of beauty and creativity added to each piece to make it His own. I wondered about the sweat across His brow in the heat of the Israel (similar to the heat here) and His pride when He finished His work and another piece of furniture was done. What patience He must have learned; the value of hard work and the joy of finishing a project to witness the final results. All of these things are a picture to me of what He accomplished on the cross and what He is accomplishing in each of His children.


Scripture says, "looking to J, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of G." When C finished that work, although it was more difficult than I could ever imagine and I know I will never understand it fully, He sat down at the right hand of the Father, with great joy. That work was greater than any that had been done and any that ever will be done. It was done with great patience, lots of sweat and tears, and even, I think, some measuring (Mk 14:36). It was not an easy task, but it was one that He did thinking about what the outcome would be--perfect masterpieces with His own touch added to each one.


As I reflect on all this today, in preparation for the celebration of His birth, I do so in a culture dominated by Isl_m. A religion where G is not personal at all...in fact to think you can approach him at all is almost considered blasphemy. There is no thought of transformation by His working in you, but a constant striving to be good enough, so that at one's death, one will be allowed to enter paradise. I am thankful that I know the true G, the One who worked on our behalf to secure for us a way to Himself and works in us to make us pleasing to Himself. A perfect masterpiece, with His own touch of beauty added to each piece for a display of His magnificent glory. Remember Him this season!



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