Boxed In

Every once in a while, I get a request to build something for someone and over the years that has run the range from wooden spoons to log home houses. At this point, it's unlikely that houses are going to be in the realm of projects I'm willing to tackle. So it was a pleasure to say yes to a request for something that was relatively simple, yet still in need of some design considerations. Although making several of something once the design is workable, the idea of making just one of something, not likely to be repeated has a certain appeal. 

A long time good friend presented the opportunity to make a unique, although rather simple project. It seems the pastor of his church was planning to follow another call after serving in their church for twenty years. This pastor had a delightful twist to keep his congregation involved in his sermons. Each week he sent an empty shoe box home with one of his flock who was charged with the responsibility of returning the box the following Sunday with a mystery object inside that the pastor would somehow include in the day's sermon; quite a novel and challenging idea.

My friend wondered is I could make a wooden shoe box as a memento for the pastor to take with him as he moved on to the next place he would serve the Lord. The idea of a box with a contrasting lid came to mind. A wooden heart with an inscription from the congregation was another feature that hopefully will remind the pastor of the many lives he has touched. Being of Dutch heritage, I considered, only fleetingly, putting a pair of wooden shoes in the box as well. Maybe another time.

Although we recognize that being a pastor to a congregation is a calling from God, it is essential that we remember that we are all called to serve in one form or another. I truly believe that all sane people want to believe that their life has been lived with purpose. God created each of us with the same idea in mind. He has a purpose for our existence. Spend some time with Him and ask to what He is calling you.

Wood Shop Keeping

Sometimes the amount of time spent in the wood shop is disproportionate to the amount of woodworking that actually takes place. Today was pretty much a time like that. It was a matter of moving from one little maintenance job to the next. All the while avoiding the real reason for being there when I went there. Part of that dilemma had to do with the hesitation of attempting a new technique when there were some no brainers that could keep me from the one thing I really hoped to accomplish.

There was the matter of readjusting the motor mount on the lathe after replacing the drive belt. Then the rat's nest of power cords on some of the hand-held tools begged to be coiled up in such a way that a single tool could be picked up without being entangled in the cord of two others. Speaking of entangled, the roll of baling twine that used to dispense just like it should had gotten dropped and getting a length greater than a foot or two was a challenge. Oh, and the filters on the heater and dust collector had been ignored entirely too long.

All this stuff had to be done. But somehow it seemed like a couple hours had done nothing that would be considered woodworking. I have come to appreciate my wife's refrain that house cleaning is noticed only when it isn't done. Before heading home, I did tackle the job that I really wanted to do in the first place (gluing a thin applique of contrasting wood on another piece). Tomorrow will tell if that was successful or not. Maybe next time the finished item can be the subject of a post. In the meantime, be content with your situation, even it seems not a productive as you would like. I firmly believe that, no matter what's happening, God has you right where He wants you. Look around and ask Him what He would have you do there.

Alone with him and Him

Having people show up for "Out of the Woodwork", as I call the ministry that started several years ago when the guilt of how little the wood shop that my father left me was being used, is something that has convinced me that it was the right thing to do. Regardless of motives for showing up, most folks seem to genuinely enjoy being there. Not everyone does a lot of woodworking while there. Some come just to associate with one another and realize that some productive things are going on in this world that often leaves the impression that very little is happening in that category.

Today, I spent a couple hours in the shop. alone, at least physically, and moved the current project, or two, a bit closer to completion. Time alone in the shop has a very different feel in that there is no distraction and it's just me and the wood. The wood just tries to be wood and I try to make the wood become what I would have it be. It's in those times that I catch myself with a realization that there is a presence beyond me and the wood.

Time alone in the shop often gives a sense that I am not alone. There are spiritual visitors that are more apparent than when there are several people working there. Naturally, my father is one of those whose spirit I sense. "What do you think about what I've done with this space that you pretty much considered a private space in which you could escape the world?" is the question that forms in my mind.  I would like to believe that Dad is OK with what's going on. He gave it to me and did so with no great reservations or conditions.

It seems the analogy is clear. Our Father in Heaven has gifted all of us. Unquestionably, some have been bequeathed more than others. But all have been entrusted with what the Father entrusts them. As with all that is in my life whether a gift from my earthly father or not, it must be considered a gift from God. Jesus tells us, "To whom much has been given, much will be expected," Being a good steward of that with which we've been entrusted is essential. Hopefully, my father and my Father are pleased with what's happening at "Out of the Woodwork".

Mighty Who?

As agreed with my pastor a dozen or so years ago, I volunteer a few hours at church each week. Most of that happens on Mondays and Tuesdays. This has been good for me and hopefully good for the church as well. In addition to coordinating the small groups ministry, there is a good bit of minor maintenance stuff that occupies a good bit of the time spent there. The business of a little structured time has kept me from a stream of consciousness existence at least for two days a week. There are some other obligations on Thursday and Friday. So, jokingly, Wednesday is my day off and my journey to church Monday and Tuesday is referred to as "going to work". Everything we call work should be so rewarding.

This past Monday, my trip to "work" involved a funny, vibrating noise that I soon discovered changed pitch with varying speeds of the heater fan. In fact, at top speed, it seemed like the dashboard was going to come off. I put up with it (pretty bearable on lowest blower setting) until today (my day off if you recall), Armed with an assortment of screwdrivers and such I disassembled the necessary plastic parts to gain access to the recalcitrant heater motor. Because of where we live, what greeted me at that point was not too surprising.

Living in the woods has been a lifetime thing for me and I would not choose otherwise. However one constant in the arrangement is putting up with the critters that share the woods. It would seem a mouse had taken up residence in the heater system. building a nest with various parts of air filters and insulation material. Mice can get through such tiny holes that it's virtually impossible to keep them from invading such an inviting space. Although cleaning out acorns and replacing the cabin air filter is pretty much routine, the rascally rodent was never in there when I did this in the past. This time was different unlike the larger rodent who choose to come out last week, this little one stayed put and when the heater fan (think centrifuge) cranked up it did him in and, although small, his body was sufficient to really upset the balance of the fan. I can run the heater full speed now. But, hopefully, the larger rodent. Phil, was right and it won't be necessary.