Ephesians 2:10 “For we (ME!) am God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us (ME!) to do.”

I grew up with a father who was a woodworker, not by trade, but as a hobby and more importantly, as a way to furnish his home with beautiful pieces of furniture fashioned from his own hands and tools. Later, as we children established our own homes he continued building pieces of furniture that filled our rooms too. Many times we received handcrafted pieces as a gift or upon personal request.

Dad was blessed with an ability to build beautiful furniture. I can still see him sitting in his chair, clipboard in hand, graph paper secured in place and his pencil gently gliding from square to square as he designed his next project. His printing and drawings were always completed with neatness  in mind and purpose. He was able to transfer his “vision” for a piece of furniture from his mind to paper, and then paper to each piece of wood put through the saw, router, sander…whatever tool was needed to complete the project.

From where I’m sitting please allow me to give you a tour of our home and tell you briefly what we have that was made by my dad. Our wedding gift was a curio cabinet. It holds small family heirloom items along with other things I have collected or saved over the course of our marriage. In the corner is a hutch that was in mom s dining room. I’m sitting on a bench at our dining table, built from one I spied in a catalog years ago.

Our sofa table is in the living room and proudly displays family photos. There’s a footstool to match a purchased rocker. The side wall is home to the bookcase which holds the encyclopedia set gifted to our children from their grandmother. The larger wall of the living room holds a clock, one of many that he handcrafted. I also remember the numerous trips to Chicago he and mom made in order to purchase the movements for each clock he built.

Both bathrooms have cabinets made by dad because they surpass  what can be purchased elsewhere. (At least that’s my opinion). Our headboard was not only made by dad, but he used wood that came from my brother’s property…double bonus!

In the basement is a wagon. It’s an original in every sense of the word. The blueprints for the “Dan Wagon” are registered and patented.  The wagon is showing a lot of wear, evidence of our son’s enjoyment. Next to the wagon is an equally worn out, tired horse. Both kids “rode” this horse into a state of needing rest and rejuvenation. (It’s waiting to be properly groomed by someone who knows tired horses).

This morning I read the verse at the top of this writing. A sense of awe I cannot describe descended on me. The kind of awe I’m feeling can only be explained as a deep sense of God’s love for me by “creating” me as an original. No duplicates. His “blueprint” was using His own image and tweaking it to be “me”. Part of the blueprint includes His “purpose” for me which was prepared in advance as well. God? Did you sit in Your favorite chair and use graph paper and a writing utensil as you visualized me? When the “exact look” was given to You, is that when you transferred Your “image” to paper? How many heavenly drawers did You open to retrieve those things that are called my “purpose”?

I’m the daughter of two fathers who possessed great workmanship. My earthly father used his own talents and “purpose” to bless his family and friends with pieces that will age with time. My heavenly Father used His abilities to create and bless me with spiritual gifts that still grow  and mature as long as I breathe…..but i know when I leave my earthy home and am joined in Heaven to my Father, those “things” I have fashioned with the use of my “gifts” and “purpose” will live on in homes , hearts and minds of my loved ones. At least that is my prayer. Part of that prayer includes asking God to encourage anyone who may be wondering about their. purpose or feeling insignificant. Can I tell you that in the morning quiet of my home today, God’s presence was yet overwhelmingly loud, profoundly loving. If He can do and “be” that for me, consider He is able for you too. I think I see Him picking up clipboard, paper, and a pencil. Something’s coming!

When my dad was employed as the chief building inspector for the city I grew up in, he met a man with a dream and desire to build a house. This gentleman, whom dad knew quite well, walked into the inspection department one morning, brandishing a new hammer held high in his hand, complete with the price tag still attached and declared to dad “I need a building permit; I want to build a house.” While that request would ordinarily be a welcome transaction, dad knew better than to pursue issuing the permit. You see, dad knew something. He knew his friend did not know how to use a hammer let alone undertake a massive building project. Dad was faced with two options,issue the permit and allow his friend to fail or discuss the enormity of the project and persuade him to hire a contractor. Dad chose the latter.

There was a second man who came to dad’s office one day with the same request. He wasn’t holding a hammer though; he was grasping a dream and desire to purchase a home and turn it into a place of ministry to young boys who were on the wrong path of life. Instead of a hammer, he was brandishing a deep scar across his face, most likely caused in one of his gang related fights as a teen or surviving the walls of prison where he found himself after losing the ability to escape the law enforcement system. His “hammer” was his deep abiding faith in Jesus which  he planned  to use rebuilding the wounded and destroyed lives that he was seeing all around him on the streets where he lived.

I see similarities between these two men as well as their differences. One had a tool, a dream, but no knowledge how to use it. The other had a dream, a tool, and a passion to fuel his knowledge. His dream was to “reach” young boys, to share his experiences and hopefully turn a life in the right direction. His “tool” was the Bible coupled  with faith and knowledge to speak from a heart that held experiences many don’t survive.

I don’t know the full ending to the first man’s request to build a home. I know that dad was able to talk him out of doing so, to reconsider. I also remember hearing dad tell me that the second man was successful in purchasing a home in the inner city, repairing it, and holding meetings that were alive with messages of hope, firm warnings, and hard truths stemming from God’s Word and his brutal years while imprisoned.

As I recalled these two stories from dad’s on-the-job days, I could not help but think I’m not unlike either of these men. I’ve never been proficient using a hammer, but not for lack of trying. There was a time in my life when I owned a Bible, but I didn’t read it. I never studied it. It was on a bookshelf collecting dust. But, for some reason I thought as long as I had that Bible I must “be all right”. But God. But His Holy Spirit. A relationship between Christ and me happened 38 years ago. His Voice spoke through the sermon of a beloved pastor and suddenly my  dusty Bible was removed, cleaned up, and was put to work rebuilding my life. I gleaned from the hard truths found in those pages and absorbed teachings from various ministers who shared God’s love for me along with testimonies of God’s goodness in their lives and others.

I fondly recall one of our church’s pastors telling a few us one time “I am always amazed when I visit folks in their home. They’ll have a beautiful Bible on the coffee table in perfect condition, thinking I’ll be impressed. Nothing could be further than the truth. Instead, show me a Bible with well worn pages, writing on pages and margins, with a cover barely intact. That’s what I want to see.” I’ve never forgotten that example. I took it to heart and am amazed that at my age I’ve already worn out a few Bibles doing exactly what he described.

God is my hammer. My hammer is the Bible. Together I think we’ve built a pretty good life together with more adventures to come!