Bjcorbin's Blog

It is one of those cool clear nights, when every star in the heavens seems to be visible. The moon is but a sliver and sits low on the horizon. Other than the steady chiming of the crickets, there is no sound. There is only enough light to see vague silhouettes in the distance, except for the yellow glow coming from the partially open door on the shed.

Though the door is only slightly ajar, the light pours out from it. As I move closer, a faint gnawing sound can be heard coming from inside. The hour is late and these are the only signs of life.

As I peek through the opening, the room seems filled with more light than could be produced by the little lantern on the workbench. It makes the room seem warmer than the cool night air. At the bench sits a craftsman, with his head bowed low and his shoulders shifting from the intent work of his hands. From behind he seems to be very focused on his work and unaware of my presence.

I creep closer, straining to elongate my body in hopes of catching a glimpse of the object in his hands. It appears to be a small wooden figure and he is handling it as though it is fragile. On the bench before him is an array of knives, chisels and picks, used to whittle the wood; and I see him deftly shift from one tool to another, as he hones every crease and edge. The intricate detail of the etching reveals the skill of his hands and the depth of the vision he has for this creation. His steady and patient movements reveal his commitment to fully realize this vision. Though the hour is very late, there is no sense that he’s concerned about the time. His loving, gentle touch speaks of his passion for this work.

Occasionally, he holds the piece close to his face, to blow a stray sliver away. There is no pause in his manner; every movement of his hands seems filled with significance. As he sets down the finest of his picks, I sense that the work is done. There is a low hum that seems to come from within him and I sense that he is smiling. He gently caresses his new creation, holding it up to the light and looking at it from every angle. It is a beautiful piece of work and more intricate than I could’ve imagined was possible. Sensing that he is finished, I back away and suddenly the lantern within the shed goes out.

There is a stirring that happens within the heart of love and as it wells up, it becomes an inspiration. If that inspiration is embraced, it becomes a passion, spilling out of the heart and becoming manifest for all to see. In the heart of a painter, it spills onto a canvass; in the heart of a musician, it comes out as a melody; from the heart of a sculptor, it takes on a form and from the heart of a parent, it is expressed in their children. Creation is the manifestation of inspiration and it is truly divine.

For those who create with their hands, each piece is a one of kind. Each creation is an expression of the heart of its creator and as such reflects an aspect of their being. There is much that can be learned about an Artisan by studying what they’ve made; each piece invaluable in the understanding of their heart.

One night, long ago, your Creator was stirred in His heart, and that stirring became His inspiration to create you. He formed you with His very own hands, and with painstaking detail He fashioned your heart. There is nothing about your being that is a mistake or an oversight, each part of you was created with intent and purpose. Who you were made to be is not just the accumulation of past experiences, good or bad. You were made to be a reflection of the heart of your Creator, and as such there is something of Him that is uniquely revealed in you. His light and life can show through you in a way that can be expressed by no other creation.

If you don’t become who He made you to be, there is an aspect of Him that the world might never see. You are a one of a kind, unique across all of time and irreplaceable. When He was done forming you, He sat back and admired His work. He still does. He knit you together in your mother’s womb, He created your inner most being; all the days ordained for you were written in His book, before one of them came to pass. You are His workmanship, only He knows the real you and it is only through Him that we can come to understand who we were made to be. He yearns for you to find all the good things that He wove into your being; He yearns for you to know the truth about you, and about Him. You are significant because you were made in His image and He’s destined you to return to Him.