What do you like to do? When considering the perfect occupation or weekend retreat, what would you do?
My uncle was a carpenter. His basement was full of enormous power tools -- lathes, saws and all manner of woodworking amenities. The smell of scorched wood, and crackling curls of maple littering the floor --it was captivating. His tools; my foray into craftsmanship.
My nana taught me needlework as soon as I was able to balance a hoop and needle. I loved sitting at her feet, her bag open in front of me. I'd root through embroidery hanks and thimbles --so much potential. Her tools; my toys.
Then there's the unfaithful husband. The drug-addicted daughter. The death of a parent. The bankruptcy. The cancer.
No, you haven't turned a page. These are tools also. Not all of them my experience, but close enough. These are the tools God has used to change my life, or the lives of my friends.
Christians catch a lot of flak for worshipping a God who would hurt to heal or tear down to rebuild. And right now, trust me, we are knee-deep in teardown. But, I have learned that something good will come of it. Oh, I can't say that I'm gushing about the process, but truth tells me this is for a season.
The Bible contains account after account of folks who, throughout history have experienced the same phenomena as this --God's sometimes sharp tools applied to their lives --but this poem says it pretty well and encourages us all:
Between the Lord and me;
I may not choose the colors–
He knows what they should be.
Upon the upper side
While I can see it only
On this, the under side.
Which seems so strange to me;
But I will trust His judgment
And work on faithfully.
And He knows what is best;
So I shall weave in earnest,
And leave to Him the rest.
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.
In the Weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.
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