"Don't look for faults because there are plenty of them to find." I said this a couple of days ago. I have been building a kitchen table from, what I like to call, scratch.
My grandfather was a serious wood worker. He lived and worked for Bassett furniture back when they turned legs by hand. I loved to watch him take a piece of wood and turn it into something beautiful. I watched. I handed him tools. I listened to the stories. I apparently listened well enough to build a table. It's not perfect but it's amazing.
My grandfather gave me this stack of wood right before he died. He had brought this wood with him from the farm when he moved here in the 70's. I don't really know how old the wood is, but I do know it's very old. You can see the hand tooled markings on the wood. Some of the pieces even have bark along the edges. It was a special moment for me, when he gave me the wood, but I wasn't sure why he was giving it to me at the time. I had never built much of anything before. Once I built my girls a playhouse and it had round windows. Why round? Because I couldn't figure out how to do anything else. It was a crooked sight. When he gave me the wood, he told me I'd make something special with it someday. My Papa had a vision for something that I had not even dreamed of yet.
The table is finished tonight. It will come in the house tomorrow. It was a labor of love with a whole lot of memories ingrained in the wood itself. It's not perfect. It has lots of faults. I'm sure my Papa was laughing as I put together the frame. He was surely laughing as I played Tetris with the bits and pieces for an entire day. He was probably hollering and whooping when it finally came together as a table top. (Thank you Amy!). The final product is sturdy and it doesn't wobble. (Yay!). It's not perfect, but it's perfect to me.
Yep. I made something special. Who knew? Well, I guess my Papa did. He had a vision. He shared it with me. I couldn't see it. It was on it's way, but I couldn't envision it. Until it was time, I couldn't even glimpse it. I can see it now.
The lesson for me is this: When someone gives you a vision for your life don't dismiss it out of hand. You might not see it. You might not want it right now. Maybe you don't believe you have the ability to complete the vision at all. The moment might not have come yet, but...you never know. One day, when the time is right, that vision might become reality. When it does, it will come right on time.
I built a table. It was right on time.
Habakkuk 2:3 MSG
"This vision-message is a witness pointing to what’s coming. It aches for the coming—it can hardly wait! And it doesn’t lie. If it seems slow in coming, wait. It’s on its way. It will come right on time."