Wood and Stones

Yesterday, LutheranChik had a great post entitled Turn...Turn...Turn. As I reflected on " turning", I thought of wood. I tried to post a comment but either blogger or my brain wasn't cooperating. So the thoughts were left marinating in my mind overnight. This morning I awoke to thoughts of turning and stones.

Turning Wood. As an Occupational Therapy student many years ago, I took a class that prepared students to do basic woodworking in a workshop with lots of power tools. This was important because we might work with clients in this type of setting or need to create or adapt equipment. I have done neither. I never ended up as a practicing OT but I remember fondly my classmates and our projects.

And I remember the lathe. You put a block of wood on it and it spins horizontally. As it rotates the wood, the craftsperson applies a chisel to the surface and trims away the unnecessary wood to reveal the potential of the piece. Most woods merely yield to the hand of the creator. And when more has become less, suddenly the beauty of a spindle emerges, not for it's own glory but to become part of something larger and functional.

Turning Stones. Each morning for the last few, a whirling, grinding noise erupts from our basement. The rock tumbler Little Sprout received for Christmas is set on a timer so that we can sleep through the night. But shortly after breakfast, it begins. The transformation. The turning. The sandy grit grinds away the debris, the ugliness, and the unnecessary. It is a long consuming process. I think there are three stages as first coarse grit is used to chip away large pieces then finer and finally a very fine substance is used to polish.

Each day the turning and grinding continue. The stones resist at first, but gradually the work is completed and a gem emerges...more valued and beautiful than the rough stone with it's hidden potential. Agate, malachite, obsidian, tigers-eye, lapis, hematite, and turquoise become something more as they became less.

Today I feel myself turning.

Will I yield or resist?

What will emerge?