In the past few days I have, for the first time, made cutting board with two kinds of wood in each board – maple and walnut. The joint is not a straight line. A straight joint would be too easy and, in the eyes of the maker, a bit boring. The joint is a freehand curve. In one case, it is a single joint. In the other, there are seven joints.
As I try to complete the second board with its multiple joints, I am struggling to make sure the joints are filled. Fortunately, I have the right types of glue. However, the process requires patience and a bit of luck.
I can visualize the results. With sanding and a bit of blood orange oil, the cutting boards will last for years! The maple and walnut are striking examples of how simplicity trumps complexity. Beauty is often found in the simple things of life.
Beneath it all, I doubt many will remember the process that went into making the boards. I do not mind the lack of knowledge. For me, the insider view has reminded me that the cutting boards are linked to a recurring model that touches my life every day. A writer captured the model with the following words. “The way God designed our bodies is a model for understanding our lives together as a church: every part dependent on every other part, the parts we mention and the parts we don’t, the parts we see and the parts we don’t.” (1 Corinthians 12.25)
In my case, the different types of glue played a role in the result that many will miss. Each has made a contribution that I know is critical. I like knowing the details because it gives me hope. Hope that acts of kindness will make a difference to at least one. Hope that compassion is its own reward. Hope that we can be a positive force for change.
Some will know. Most will miss the details. In the scheme of things, it does not matter. Glue has its purpose and reward.
