Empty Cross

When I was approached by one of our church elders concerning the possibility of having an Easter sunrise service on our property, I was more than happy to say, "Sure." I spent some time thinking about just where might be the best spot to have the service and, once decided, considered how the site might be arranged. The plan emerged: some rustic seating and, as an afterthought, a matching lectern.

With the help of my son, a necessary ingredient more and more these days, we got to work. We were the beneficiaries of some good sized Hemlock logs due to the wind storm a year ago and used the trusty Woodmizer sawmill to slice two of them end to end. They became the rustic seating I had in mind. Once on site, we wrestled those half logs onto some short pieces and decided that they were plenty comfortable. Of course anything to sit on would have been ok by that time.

The lectern was to be made of two big chunks of White Oak that had been discarded because we ran into iron in the log when sawing back in October. The shorter piece intended for the top of the lectern already had one flat cut on it so that a second cut not quite parallel to it allowed it to sit atop the larger piece with a sloping surface on top. Once in place, Jon looked at it and said, "There's a cross on this." Sure enough; the stain that developed on the surface as a result of the iron weathering for months had left an undeniably cross shaped pattern. A small circle off to the side, also caused by the stain reminded us of the empty tomb that was discovered on that first Easter morning almost 2000 years ago.

One of Jesus' promises was to be with us always and little reminders like the stain on a piece of weathered wood keeps us aware of how He keeps His promises. We celebrate the empty cross. We celebrate the empty tomb. He is risen and His promise of eternal life will not be denied. I pray that you have a blessed Easter and remind one another of the power of the resurrection every day.

A Valuable Post or Two

If you have been following my Out of the Woodwork missives for a while, you know that one of my interests is in the restoration of the American Chestnut tree. I recently attended the spring meeting of the Pennsylvania/New Jersey chapter of The American Chestnut Tree Foundation and enjoyed seeing some well done woodworking using salvaged Chestnut. Because of the durability and rot resistance of Chestnut wood, there is a good bit of it around in old buildings. Chestnut was satisfactory for anything from the framing to the final trim and a considerable amount could be gleaned from a timber framed barn for instance.

But then another source became evident as I perused the hand crafted items on display. A woman was displaying items her father had made from salvaged fence posts. Because of its rot resistance, Chestnut was favored for fence posts and rails, many of them still sound although in use for over fifty years. One item on display was a simple yet delightful bud vase made by taking a short piece of old fence post, drilling a hole to accept a test tube and sanding and polishing the end grain. The contrast between the weathered surface of the post and the clean darker end grain showing the distinctive growth rings was eye catching.

Much to my delight, I came across an old fence row this week and although the barbed wire has mostly rusted away, the posts looked pretty solid. What do you know? These posts have been in the ground for at least fifty years and are as sound as the day they were put in. Although I won't be getting a big pile of lumber from them, these links to the past will provide material for a good number of small items that can be sold for the benefit of the efforts to restore what may well be the most valuable hardwood we have ever known.

Why Nut

One of the things to which I look forward is the spring meeting of the Pennsylvania/New Jersey chapter of The American Chestnut Tree Foundation. That will be coming up shortly and once more, I'll be reminded that there's always more to learn about the magnificent "Redwoods of the East" that, at one time, dominated our forest, constituting one out of every four trees in Pennsylvania. Think about that. In 1900, if you went into the forest in most of the American Chestnut's range (Georgia to Maine), and counted the trees as you came to them, every fourth one would have been a Chestnut tree. The tree was an undeniable asset to all who needed wood for almost any purpose and the nut crop was desired by human and animal alike.

By 1950, virtually every American Chestnut tree was dead. A blight arriving on American shores on imported Asian Chestnut trees did a quick and thorough job of eliminating what had sustained early settlers and citizens for hundreds of years. The efforts to develop a blight resistant tree with the characteristics of the original American Chestnut is ongoing and is the thrust of The American Chestnut Tree Foundation. The efforts to get a forest that once again is home to these wonderful trees has been supported by a true grass roots movement to reestablish something that was considered so valuable and now unknown by most who are alive today.

Knowing that there was such a thing as The American Chestnut Tree Foundation piqued my fascination. My father and grand father spoke often about the wonderful Chestnut trees and how the lumber from them was used for everything. Some buildings were made with no other wood, Chestnut finding its way into everything from the sill to the roof shingles. My grandfather's theory on the matter was simple. God had provided the Chestnut tree and, as is typical, man was not fully appreciative, So God took it away. To an extent, Granddad was right. Today, through the efforts of so many individuals, we are close to having a blight resistant tree that has most of the characteristics of the trees former generations had come to believe would always be around.

The efforts of the foundation are admirable and deserve support. I encourage you to take a look at work being done and support it. The work of the foundation mirrors the very essence of God's ways. We failed to appreciate what He had provided and, for awhile, the provision was withheld. The promise of those working in the foundation is to not be careless with our stewardship of all that we have been given. A personal piece of the program is an experimental orchard within walking distance to our home planted with hybrid Chestnut trees. I'd be pleased to have you take a look at it.