Words as Wood
James 1:21
"Wherefore lay apart all filthiness and superfluity of naughtiness, and receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to save your soul." KJV, KJV, KJV!!!
Eugene Peterson in his book "Tell It Slant" writes:
"Jesus came to save our souls. He also came to save our words. Word and words are at the very core of God's revelation of himself to us. If the words are damaged through careless or malicious usage, or are left in bad repair....words wear out. We have a responsibility for cleaning them up, scrubbing off the grime." (p. 107).
I edited this...I know, what temerity! One should be cautious when modifying the master's prose, one who has produced his own translation of the Bible. Having an M.A. from Johns Hopkins in Semitic languages gives some cred.
I had a handyman over at the rental property the other day. I basically served one major function that day as he fixed several and assorted problems on the property: Dutifully writing the check at the end of the work, which I executed with precision. What penmanship! I also helped him when he needed an extra set of hands or to have me reach down into his toolbox for something and was gofer-dude to the local hardware store.
I wish I were more mechanical. That is one tool the Lord did not put in my talent toolbox. Or if He did, it was taken out when I was born prematurely and oxygen deprivation caused neurological impairment of my ability to see in three-dimensions and have depth-perception. I have drain bramage. If I didn't know better through experience, I would assume that the world is flat (a la T. Friedman). So I am one more Liberal Arts type of person trying to make a living in a practical world. "Don't live in a town where scholars rule." I read this quote one time in a book with a picture of a broken pillar in view, one half on the ground, the other half upright but faltering.
There was one repair that I did not assign to the handyman: The staining of the back porch. I used to paint house in college which is about as high on the "Trades" mountain that I can climb. I know how to open a can, stir, and roll and brush the wood, which are about the skills needed. So, I declined assigning this duty to him.
Before commencing, I had to wash the porch with this bleach-infused liquid that removed dirt, bird crap, and a mossy green mold that has been slowly covering the porch since the last time the deck was stained a few year ago. The directions on the cleaning liquid label stated that I should wait 48 hours after washing the porch before staining it. The handyman strongly advised me to follow the protocol. Although the wood felt dry on the surface about an hour later, I knew that there was still water deep in the wood. And sealing the moisture in with an oil-based stain would probably rot the boards from within in quick order. So, I decided to wait two days. Painting has taught me much about process, protocol, and patience. The wood suffers otherwise.
48 hours later, Saturday came and the day was bright. Lina was leaving for India. I checked the forecast. There was a possibility for showers. After Lina left for the airport, I decided to head over and stain the deck and take my chances that it would not rain. I figured that the way the summer goes, showers and thunderstorms are a daily possibility and I might never get the porch done (until I had two days straight of no rain forecasted--it also takes two days for the stain to fully dry).
I brought over some plastic sheeting but decided to not lay it on the porch because the stained-wood was sticky and tacky. Plus, I wanted to let the porch breathe. Well, I went off to Wrightsville to meet some friends for food and beer and as I traveled westward, I noticed that it was starting to rain. The further west I went, the heavier the rain got. The patterns of storms in my part of Pa is West to East straight-ahead like a Penn State fullback with beefy blockers. I was hoping the rain would hold off but it did not. Soon, it was raining hard in Wrightsville and I knew that I had to head back home to get the plastic.
I arrived at the porch after a slow ride home behind some Amish-like automobile driver. I know, I should have kept the plastic in my car trunk. My bad. When I got to the porch, after both praying and being profane, I found that in the intervening two hours, the oil had been absorbed deeply into the wood. The water was beading which is always a good sign. I took a towel and wiped off the water and then put the plastic down. I am hoping for the best. There was little scent of the stain on the towel which suggests that most of the stain was already in the wood and not on the surface, even though the time had been short. Once it clears up, sometime in July, if not sooner, I will remove the plastic.
The whole experience/slash pseudo-crisis ordeal reminded me to be mindful of the power of prayer rather than my proclivity towards profane thinking and speaking. When I get down, I need to look up. Seeking God in prayer and having the Holy Spirit come afresh puts oil into my soul, allowing the troubles to bead on the surface rather than inside the wood of my thoughts, words, and deeds. Let me be righteous rather than rotten when the troubling rains fall.
"Wherefore lay apart all filthiness and superfluity of naughtiness, and receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to save your soul." KJV, KJV, KJV!!!
Eugene Peterson in his book "Tell It Slant" writes:
"Jesus came to save our souls. He also came to save our words. Word and words are at the very core of God's revelation of himself to us. If the words are damaged through careless or malicious usage, or are left in bad repair....words wear out. We have a responsibility for cleaning them up, scrubbing off the grime." (p. 107).
I edited this...I know, what temerity! One should be cautious when modifying the master's prose, one who has produced his own translation of the Bible. Having an M.A. from Johns Hopkins in Semitic languages gives some cred.
I had a handyman over at the rental property the other day. I basically served one major function that day as he fixed several and assorted problems on the property: Dutifully writing the check at the end of the work, which I executed with precision. What penmanship! I also helped him when he needed an extra set of hands or to have me reach down into his toolbox for something and was gofer-dude to the local hardware store.
I wish I were more mechanical. That is one tool the Lord did not put in my talent toolbox. Or if He did, it was taken out when I was born prematurely and oxygen deprivation caused neurological impairment of my ability to see in three-dimensions and have depth-perception. I have drain bramage. If I didn't know better through experience, I would assume that the world is flat (a la T. Friedman). So I am one more Liberal Arts type of person trying to make a living in a practical world. "Don't live in a town where scholars rule." I read this quote one time in a book with a picture of a broken pillar in view, one half on the ground, the other half upright but faltering.
There was one repair that I did not assign to the handyman: The staining of the back porch. I used to paint house in college which is about as high on the "Trades" mountain that I can climb. I know how to open a can, stir, and roll and brush the wood, which are about the skills needed. So, I declined assigning this duty to him.
Before commencing, I had to wash the porch with this bleach-infused liquid that removed dirt, bird crap, and a mossy green mold that has been slowly covering the porch since the last time the deck was stained a few year ago. The directions on the cleaning liquid label stated that I should wait 48 hours after washing the porch before staining it. The handyman strongly advised me to follow the protocol. Although the wood felt dry on the surface about an hour later, I knew that there was still water deep in the wood. And sealing the moisture in with an oil-based stain would probably rot the boards from within in quick order. So, I decided to wait two days. Painting has taught me much about process, protocol, and patience. The wood suffers otherwise.
48 hours later, Saturday came and the day was bright. Lina was leaving for India. I checked the forecast. There was a possibility for showers. After Lina left for the airport, I decided to head over and stain the deck and take my chances that it would not rain. I figured that the way the summer goes, showers and thunderstorms are a daily possibility and I might never get the porch done (until I had two days straight of no rain forecasted--it also takes two days for the stain to fully dry).
I brought over some plastic sheeting but decided to not lay it on the porch because the stained-wood was sticky and tacky. Plus, I wanted to let the porch breathe. Well, I went off to Wrightsville to meet some friends for food and beer and as I traveled westward, I noticed that it was starting to rain. The further west I went, the heavier the rain got. The patterns of storms in my part of Pa is West to East straight-ahead like a Penn State fullback with beefy blockers. I was hoping the rain would hold off but it did not. Soon, it was raining hard in Wrightsville and I knew that I had to head back home to get the plastic.
I arrived at the porch after a slow ride home behind some Amish-like automobile driver. I know, I should have kept the plastic in my car trunk. My bad. When I got to the porch, after both praying and being profane, I found that in the intervening two hours, the oil had been absorbed deeply into the wood. The water was beading which is always a good sign. I took a towel and wiped off the water and then put the plastic down. I am hoping for the best. There was little scent of the stain on the towel which suggests that most of the stain was already in the wood and not on the surface, even though the time had been short. Once it clears up, sometime in July, if not sooner, I will remove the plastic.
The whole experience/slash pseudo-crisis ordeal reminded me to be mindful of the power of prayer rather than my proclivity towards profane thinking and speaking. When I get down, I need to look up. Seeking God in prayer and having the Holy Spirit come afresh puts oil into my soul, allowing the troubles to bead on the surface rather than inside the wood of my thoughts, words, and deeds. Let me be righteous rather than rotten when the troubling rains fall.
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