Handiwork

I love working to give birth to creative ideas.  The process does not always work, yet it is extremely rewarding.  It starts with vision, dream, or sliver of imagination.  The ongoing cycle of reshaping the images in my mind takes me to unknown places.  It is a wonderful part of the journey.  The experience is also one I want to share with those around me.
 
As I look into the shop, I find myself looking at drying pieces of walnut, ash, red oak, cherry, and a wide range of English hardwoods.  I have no idea when someone will sense the calling.  I wonder what the day will be like when they pick up the piece of wood as they scan the images dancing in their minds.  I know it will come, if only for me, and it fills me with hope.
 
Yet in the midst of this wonder, I find there is a dark side.  I rarely find myself sitting completely idle and at rest.  Even in my quietness, my mind is active and at work.  Even in my stillness, some part of me is trying to dance and move forward.  My soul’s hands are at work, giving shape to my dreams.  My heart’s energies respond to the call.  Ideas, concepts, and plans take shape; I find myself exhausted by the effort.  Frequently I find myself consumed by these gods of my creation.
 
It is hard to realize there is no call to or for the work of my mind.  There is a fundamental difference is working with nature, letting my hands run free, and letting go of whatever emerges, and realizing the gods of my mind.  At times, I confuse the two, yet I know there is a difference.  It is easier to see myself in a dream; “the blacksmith makes his no-god, works it over in his forge, hammering it on his anvil—such hard work!  He works away, fatigued with hunger and thirst.”  (Isaiah 44.12)
 
Today is a fresh opportunity to let God work through me, to let go of building my own.