When I first saw the log that was to become my next mission in the wood shop, it had been sitting in the yard for over two years. Neglected and forgotten, buried in a woodpile, the sun had beaten down on it across several summers and springs. Winters had taken their toll upon the wood, and it lay there in near ruin, an unlikely candidate for future glory. When we come to Christ it is the same, we come to Him bearing the scars that life has given us, bringing Him our many pieces, asking for the resurrection that His broken body bought for us as it hung upon the cross.
I found the log in its weakened state and yet it was necessary still to remove the bark and further break it down on the long journey towards redemption. God does the same thing to us when we come to Him broken. He breaks us down even more, pulling back and pruning off those destroyed portions of ourselves that we can’t carry into the next season of our life that He has prepared for us. We get weaker and weaker so that His work in our lives can increase as He builds us back up.
And the process of resurrecting us is never over. We never reach a time in when it is unnecessary to bring to Jesus the portions of our lives that pull us from Him, those things of this world that do not serve us. After the bark is gone, the wood has no structure of its own to hold it together. Like placing your trust in God, the wood must be tapped together until a firmer foundation can be poured with epoxy. Trust in the process is necessary as God adds and removes things from our lives, things that we thought we needed to survive but yet hindered us from becoming that which He would build us into.
In the woodshop restoration is possible. It is possible to sand the wood until the destruction of the years is gone. It is possible to pour epoxy into the weak spots and holes, like Christ pours Himself into our lives as He makes us a new creation. Like the balm of heaven, His presence and renewal strengthen us where we are brought low. And there must be several layers of epoxy poured for the wood to become strong again. They must dry and be poured once more, and the woodworker must be patient in the process with the wood as Jesus is patient with His children.
In the woodshop and in the resurrecting, there is peace that can be found. In the work, Jesus is with me. In the focus and in the determination, the reality of the Kingdom of God can be felt. Casting worldly fear and anxiety upon the wood and the work, the distractions die upon the cross. It makes me more like Him, to do to the wood what He has done for me in my life. As I become more like Him, the wood teaches me the lessons that Jesus has for me. As I make the wood new, Christ continues to refine my life with His wisdom. His wisdom is always the key. I want to remember that.
The abandoned and forgotten piece of wood was chosen as God chose me to be His son. Once a rough and fractured log, the renewed creation will become a work of art, a shiny and strong shelf to hang upon the wall of my home with key hooks. It will be celebrated in its new glory, a place where my most trusted items (my wallet and truck keys) will be kept. I’ll always know with certainty where my keys are, as I know with certainty that renewal is always found in the presence of Christ. In the focus I find peace, the absence of distractions. The redemption found in the woodshop is a space of healing that can come from only the only One who can seek us out when we are lost, break us down and build us back up again stronger than ever before.
By: Carl Michael Mora and Sarah Elizabeth Bartlett