I waited at the counter for others to arrive. With no one to my right or left and busy staff focused on others, I wondered what life would reveal in the time that I had. The countertop was made from large, thick, and long tropical hardwood slabs. Appreciating the decades of natural, untended growth and maturity sacrificed for this counter came naturally. I could hear my dad’s voice sharing what the wood revealed. As naturally perfect as this was, the connection points were simple, somewhat crude examples of a butterfly joint. While strong, they were far from perfect.
Divinity has a relentless way of reminding me of where I stand. I am made from the same material. Filled with the possibilities of perfection, my connection to the tree is crude at best. Darkness tries to hide the gaps, even as they remain visible to the untrained eye and one’s touch. My awareness of the connecting flaws does not change the reality that the connections are stronger than I can imagine.
The top is naturally beautiful, and it has a warmth that defies explanation. In its reflection, I can visualise manufactured attempts to replicate the grain, edges, and feeling one has when one sits next to the counter and rests one’s hands on the surface. They are so different! In the present, I can hear the echo of an observation left by an earlier generation; “Through the Spirit, Christ offered himself as an unblemished sacrifice, freeing us from all those dead-end efforts to make ourselves respectable, so that we can live all out for God.” (Hebrews 9.15)
What happens next depends on how I exercise my freedom through words and actions. As stunning as the counter is, it is simply a place. There are emotions or feelings other than what I, along with others, bring. Everything will be as it was until one seizes or loses the opportunities in the moment. Silence will dominate, replaced by voices with the potential for kindness and care. Dust gathers; only avoided as one experiences acts of empathy and compassion.
