The Accidental Carpenter

 One of the things I find interesting about my life is that, for good or bad, I never know from one day to the next what will happen.  Here's a little story or three about that:

As some of you know, I have some house guests here.  On the day that I was going to pick up my mini-project, the Tahoe, my house guests had vehicle trouble and the plan to meet the sellers of the Tahoe went south.  With the help of the intermediaries, we were able to get the deal done;  just not as I'd planned.  I had to go back and have the sellers sign the title in the correct place though, which took a few more days to happen.  It all worked out, but none of it according to plan.  

I'm learning not to hold fast to my plans.  Things never seem to go the way I think they ought to.  But as always, there's a Scripture verse to hang onto and it's from James 4:13-15 and it says:

"Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit"--yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring.  What is your life?  For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.  Instead you ought to say, "If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that."

That might seem a bit harsh, but there's a point at which you realize as a believer that God is in control and it's His will that we even live.  I've found in my experience that my will often tries to get in the way of me enjoying His plan for my life and then I get to do some stuff I'd probably not have to have done in the first place. From experience, I know it's easier to just surrender than it is to have to get there the long way.  The long way hurts.

So what does this have to do with carpentry?  A lot, actually.

Several years ago, I made Wendi a chair.  She asked me to and I found plans, did the best I could, and made her a chair.  Even after the mess we went through, she still packed that chair around and when I helped her move to Washington, I found the chair, in two pieces, in her yard.  I figured that if she'd packed it around all this time, it must've meant something to her, even broken.  I had some time, so I was able to repair it and get it back to her.  When she came back to Utah and lived in my basement, she told me she'd like four more of them for her kids, so I painstakingly disassembled hers, piece by piece, and made a pattern for the chairs she asked me for.  I kept the pattern pieces and brought them here to Oregon with me.

I made two for me and swore I wouldn't make another one.  I meant it, but I still held onto the pattern pieces.  At this point, this would be a good spot to re-read that Bible verse again.  I got asked by a friend to make two more and donate them for a raffle to raise money for needy families at Christmas.  I did so; griped a little bit about it because they're a bit of work to make, and did my level best to make them the nicest chairs I'd made.  I did a fairly decent job on them, I think but still, I wouldn't rate them past fair.  I'm working with a 7th grade wood shop education and some tricks I learned about putting things together as an airplane guy.  My Jesus was a carpenter and I imagine that His work is hands down, the best stuff ever built by a carpenter.  I own power tools and can operate them with minimal injury to myself.  

The chairs I made were not included in today's raffle.  There were other prizes like a wheelbarrow, horse tack, cowboy what-nots, and even a pair of plastic adirondack chairs. Yours truly actually won a bale of hay which in turn went to some good horses.  The chairs I made were raffled off separately and raised even more money for the good cause.  I was happy about that.  I was surprised that a few people were upset that they weren't raffled off separately.  I talked to the winner of the chairs and told her that they needed to have a finish put on them (stain or paint) but that they'd been sanded to a point where they were ready for the finish.  I also told her that if she had any problems with them, to let Matt know and I'd fix them for her.  For my pilot friends, the 30/30 warranty doesn't apply to the chairs.  The 30/30 warranty is pretty standard in aviation:  30 minutes or 30 feet, whichever comes first.

My friend told the people at the raffle I made them and that I was taking orders.  No, I'm not.  I really don't want to make any more, but I kept the pattern pieces.  My unwillingness to make them is apparently not what God wanted from me today because I got asked to make another pair; this time for a rodeo queen thingie.  Hey, it's a good cause and I already had the wood to make one more anyway, so....

But there's some more in there.  There was me telling the guy no, and then that I'd think about it, and the ensuing fight with myself about it, which I lost.  I always do.

So here are some thoughts to leave you with tonight: Sometimes, that thing you're asked to do is the last thing you want and sometimes the thing you want isn't the right thing for you.  I got reminded of that today as well.  Something crossed my path today that looked really, really, good.  But that good thing was not for me.  I know that and it got validated with an exclamation point about two hours later.  I'm good with that.  I'm also learning that I have zero control over my own life, so I should quit pretending I do.

What I'm going to do is not the thing I wanted to do.  But busy hands are happy hands.  And when you submit, it's just easier.  So I'm going to make some chairs.  I might make some more for my friend's mother.  My friend assures me that several of the people that attended the raffle today would like some as well, but I'm not ready to go into production.  Not yet.  I long ago lost the real pattern for these things and the patterns I'm using were made from the original chair I made for Wendi, which when it was finished, looked like something built by a 7th grader in shop class.

That's the story of how I became the reluctant carpenter.  But even reluctantly doing what you're asked, to make use of your gifts to be a blessing to others, is obedience to God.  And in the end, the real Carpenter set that example of not His will, but the Father's be done, and if God's using me to help raise money for some good causes with the skills He's given me and the pattern for the chairs that the Holy Spirit won't let me toss away (there's the reason I kept the pattern pieces), then so be it.