In The Hands of the Carpenter

I remember, as a child, watching my father make something out of wood.  Amazed as he transformed a plain piece of wood into a beautiful shelf, rack, or cabinet, I also appreciated his care and understanding of just how to deal with the lumber he used.

 Now, having spent almost 366 days on home assignment, I recognize how like my Heavenly Father’s care for me, my father’s diligence and care for his creation was.  Sawing off unnecessary pieces, coarsely sanding the rough spots, gently handling and smoothing to bring out the beauty.  Just as my dad did this with his work, God continues to remove every blemish, every imperfection in me, making my life a reflection of His Glory.

Musing on this year, I see so many ways He has been working, sanding, removing, and embellishing my life with grace.  Let me reflect out loud:

Wall-to-wall cars are the pits.  If you have ever driven in Southern California, you don’t need to read further.  Let me just say I will never appreciate driving the congested, smoggy freeways of Orange County.  Living in a town in Germany with only one stoplight has spoiled me forever!

God blessed the broken road when He brought Smitty and I together. 

We have 38 years of growing, loving, living together.  Aside from the first couple of years, this has been the hardest one for us as a couple.  God has used His saw on me to remove some selfish, unnecessary parts.  Yet I look back on the struggles and learning together and praise God for His hand on us.  What we share has been worth the work.

All of us are unique.   I often think critically of others, but I’m coming to realize my criticism is not God’s.  Each person reveals special talents and gifts, messiness and pain that are unique to that person.  None of us demonstrates perfection.  The more I see others as imperfect, the more I recognize imperfections in myself.  Who am I to criticize?  God’s gentle sanding of my soul discloses more grace for others, less expectation of their perfection.

What is grief?   Ennui and unrest filled our first few months in the US last summer. I grappled with crazy thoughts, abrasive talk, and miscommunication.  Finally, someone wisely shared I was grieving.  Grieving a way of life, grieving my classroom, my students, and my community.  At that moment I had a choice to accept the grief and feel it’s affects on me or shun it and continue to be an unreasonable houseguest.  The struggle did not end immediately, but I now recognize grief for what it is:  I feel a loss and that loss brings pain.  Being honest with myself has opened doors to accept the grief others bear.  Some talk, some cry, some retreat, others post on social media.  None of these are wrong, just different.  Another way I am learning to embrace the uniqueness of God’s children and love them unconditionally.   Another way to abide in Christ.  Another way God’s hand molds me into His image.

Its not so much about where I live but how I live-our roots are not in places but in people

As we prepare to return to Germany I am aware of heartache due to family and friends we will leave here in the United States.  Our grandson and oldest granddaughter just married the loves of their lives, and we will miss rubbing shoulders, sharing stories.  Our long-time pastor retires in September and a new man will shepherd our OC church.  We will miss being part of the choosing, part of the newness of this change of leadership.

On the other hand, we will not miss our house, still rented, in Garden Grove.  This studio apartment has served us well, but I won’t miss it.  We go to our apartment in Kandern, but it is the people there we long to see, not the place.  It’s funny how, when I think of a place, the memory always is about time shared with people there.

Relationships and making time for people have become major investments of this year in the US.  All that we own can disappear, but the people we love, whether in Africa, Europe, Asia, Australia, South America, or here on the North American continent, these people have become my focus.  I’m excited, too, to re-establish relationships in Germany.  Time and love invested in people explain my joy in life. 

God’s grace is sufficient How can I begin to share all God has done this past 11 months?  Overwhelmed by the answers to prayers both big and small, I count my Lord as my best friend.   In scripture He is described as a rock, shepherd, door, truth, light, bread of life, living water, and more.  I have experienced Him in all of these ways.  I’m amazed to awaken in the night, begin to fret, pray for His peace and find I’ve slept well for the rest of the night.  The political climate, the social calamities, the physical ills of this life all point to two choices:  I can trust Him and believe He controls all things, or I can spend my life in fear and worry.  I am learning to choose the first option and shun the second. 

The next week find us sorting, storing, packing and shipping to return to Germany.  We leave our Tustin apartment, spend two days on the east coast, fly to Zurich, live in France for two more days (long story for another time) and re establish our home in Kandern around the middle of July.  Lots of upheaval, lots to do, but in the entire transition one thing remains constant.  God’s gentle hand continues to make me into the person He has prepared for me since before the foundations of the earth.  I can trust His hand to gently supply all I need.  And that is good enough for me.

But as for me, the nearness of God is my good;
I have made the Lord GOD my refuge,
That I may tell of all Your works. Psalm 73