Thursday, July 31, 2008

Dear God,

I learned today how to plane. My bedroom doors are sticking. I've painted them but they stick and the paint chips off, leaving the doors with spots of green instead of the snowfall white I've painted them. Not knowing exactly what to do, I asked my favorite lumber company specialist. "Do you think I can plane a door?" He picked up a plane and showed me how to do it. So I took the challenge.

My first efforts at planing didn't meet with much success. I got off a lot of paint but no wood. The door still stuck. After an hour or two I adjusted the blade and got my first curl of wood shaving. "I know how to plane! I know how to plane!" I cried out in pride. It took about three hours to plane one door but now that door closes. I was so proud.

As I think about learning a new skill, I think of the process of spiritual planing. My griping and complaining to you and your work of redeeming me surely must cause you to shake your head in bewilderment and disgust at times. I do know the pain of being planed. I can feel it within my own spirit. Yet, your own calm, steady strokes rid me of unwanted attitudes and behaviors. I am enabled to open up and stop sticking, making my way into you much easier. The doors to my soul freely open both ways and I breathe deeply of your spirit. Without the spiritual plane, how could I ever rise up to you?

There's a beautiful sound
to the rhythm
of your steady stroking,
the quiet calm
of sshh, sshh, sshh.
The discards
of my life
lay at your feet,
soon to be
thrown away
and burned.
No remnants remain,
a reminder
of sin forgiven.

In gratitude, Andrea