Sunday, January 16, 2011


Sunday Reflection: Sitting in my attic with the carpenter

Nothing in Jesus' life was an accident. Every bit of that time on earth was scripted by God, every moment, and each is imbued with meaning. It means something that Jesus was born in poverty to an unwed mother, it means something that he was a criminal defendant, and it means something that he spoke to children and tax collectors and women.

It also means something that he was a carpenter. Imagine the moment when the ceiling was cut through so some men could lower down a friend to be healed-- there is some part of Christ that looked up and saw carpentry, the work of hands like his, destroyed by this act. It probably wasn't funny. He healed the man anyway.

I am in Waco and will get to go back to 7th and James today. I spent the night at a Hampton Inn, though, because I didn't want to spend the night in my empty, unsold house. Still, I went to visit.

Long after dark, I crept up to the attic, and sat on old beams. In an attic, you are surrounded by rough carpentry, the work of our Lord. If there is a soul to a house, it is there in the splinters and beams. Nailheads are exposed, trusses unfinished.

I slipped a note in between a truss and the roof boards, and as I did so I felt that raw wood, the kind that He and his father cut to build houses. Then I sat for a moment in that place full of meaning and love, and let it be.

It was a remarkable week, one of the most memorable of my life. I reconnected with friends who have been better to me than I deserved, I celebrated an incredible victory in a room full of heroes high over the city, I mourned with the brave, I hugged my father and mother with new love and appreciation, and drank good wine with new friends and old.

Now it is time to go back to hammering.

Can we bring back the kittens?
The kitten pictures were better anyways. What the he'll is that?
If everything in
his life was scripted, then why
not predestination?
Do you think houses have like souls? Seems like a lot of good times were had in that house of yours in Waco,a dn I wonder if that will give like good luck or whatever to the new owner? Like if it had gone the other way do you think like "Bad juju" or karma or whatever can seep into the walls of a house? I have often wondered about this.
Certainly SOMETHING went down in MY house.... at least the old one, because it exploded.... I wonder often why fate like picked MY HOUSE to explode? Maybe I was to learn something from it? I did make a great friend from that experience, more than one... so I am not sure. However, if I had it to do over I woudl rather have NOT had an exploded house... I always drive by this other house Bill wanted to buy. it was about the same size a little bigger but more like upgraded it iwas in this kind of upscale kind of snooty housing thing that is called TOFTE FARMS Pron TOFF TEE Farms - preferable with a MR HOWELL accent. it is a gorgeous house and it had a really great space with a shop. it was 15 K more than this place but that was not the only drawback: it was in TOFTE which is an HOA thing and there are lots of rules about living in TOFTE. Bill wanted NO PART of living in an HOA place. No way. You have t oget permission for all kinds of crap... so NO WAY. SO we are like three blocks away in like, in my opinion the BEST Hodd in Canby. Sace for the explosions. ... but I drive by the Tofte house all the tiem and I always think WHAT IF?? But then I think No.. whatever.... I dont care if it exploded becase even though some bad stuff went on some great stuff happened too.
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