Not Much of a Carpenter

I awakened with the giddiness of a child on his first day of summer vacation. Filled with memories of playing in my brother’s workshop when I was young, I went to the hardware store to purchase all I would need to construct a trash container at our mountain house. Over coffee, I made my plans and figured out what I needed and the order in which things should be done. Now, I just needed to pull it off. That fact is, I’m not much of a carpenter, but that’s not the point.

I set up a workstation on the deck and stumbled my way through cutting the supports. After correcting some measurements, I attached the supports, then put on the siding. Building things is harder than I remembered, and I marveled at my friends who are accomplished carpenters throughout the project. By the time I got to the lid, I was eager to finish the project and rushed through the final stages. In the end, I pulled it off. Anyone who looks closely could see countless mistakes. As I put away my tools, it was clear I wasn’t much of a carpenter, but that’s not the point.

My experience building the container is not unlike my efforts to live a life of faith. I awaken every morning with high hopes and spend time “getting ready” before beginning my day. I make plans, but either the day itself or my scattered heart usually gets in the way. Mistakes are made and I need to correct them, it seems, by the minute. Determined, I push on. Some days I make it through because of sheer stubbornness.  Some days take less effort. Whether a day feels like a disaster and isn’t so bad, I’m can always see I’m not much of a carpenter, but that’s not the point. 

I can get lost in comparing my work to those who are accomplished, those who seem to be able to live a spiritual life effortlessly, but that never helps. I can look closely and only see my mistakes, but that will just make me want to give up. Instead, I need to see that I showed up, cared enough to try. Even though I’m not be much of a carpenter, that’s the point.