the daughter of a woodworker

2 1/2 weeks ago, we had a friend over for dinner. As a centerpiece on the table, we had some tea lights on the a beautiful spiral wooden wreath made for us by my dad where we count down the days until Easter.  All of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the flames on the tea light was dancing about 2-3 inches high.  I've never seen a tea light do this, and I tried to simply blow it out. This did not work and so I tried to sprinkle some water on it, but it seemed to only feed the flame.   From where Anna was sitting, she said she thought she could blow it out, and before anyone had a better plan to suggest, she blew a big breath on it only to accidentally flip the tea light upside-down on the table.  She gasped and was so worried it had ruined the table that my dad had put so much time into for us over Thanksgiving when he refinished it.  Assessing the damage, it left a ring of bubbles on the surface of the table, and I knew it would have to be redone again.  I assured Anna it was alright. One of the mantras in our house when things break is, "It's just a thing."  We really want our kids to know that while we want to be careful with the gifts we have been given, it's not worth emotional upheaval over stuff-- no matter what it is.  People are always more important than things. 

But I admit that when I looked at the damage and saw the daunting task ahead of fixing it that I did have some anxiety about it because we did not want my dad to think we had been careless.   I also knew I wanted to fix it pretty quickly because we gather so many people around this beloved table, and it's such a central part of our home.  

I chuckled when I prayed a simple prayer of help saying to Jesus: "Okay- you were a carpenter! I'd love your help on this one!!"  But I also had this thought that came through my mind that I am the daughter of a woodworker.  My dad has an amazing gift and brought things to life out of blocks of wood that are hard to fathom.  I loved recently overhearing Taylor show his friends some of the things Dad has made or refinished over the years with such pride in his voice (our bed, the bowls, our wardrobe).  The thought that having such a talented dad meant that perhaps I've got some of those woodworking genes, and it gave me confidence to at least give it a shot.  

Jason was headed out of town for the next few days and I happened to have a bit more time on my hands since I'd already turned in all my grades for the end of the quarter so the next morning, I jumped into the project.  I got out all the materials we had from the fall project and got to work.  On that first day, I stripped it down and scraped all the finish off, I sanded 'til the cows came home, I stained it and I began to put the finish on.  The next week, I continued to put layers of finish on it, sanding it each time in between and then adding more layers.  

When I felt like I was in the home stretch, I texted Dad and asked him to give me a call when he had a chance. I told him the whole story and let him know the bad news (about the freak tea light that went up in flames on our table) and the good news (that I had channeled his woodworking skills the last week and that I had refinished it.) 

I wrote him a letter saying how the thought of being his daughter gave me confidence that I might have a chance at salvaging our beloved table from the burn marks.  He has left me quite a legacy to learn from and much creativity to emulate (even when I don't feel up to the challenge or feel like I have what it takes to do the kinds of things he has done).  

This whole experience reminded me of the confidence we have of being a son or a daughter of the King who has gone before us and shown us true Life so that we can live into His legacy now.  We may feel inadequate or insecure, but we have been given a new identity in Christ and it can certainly be a game changer. 

This table has been through a lot through the years. It was glued back together after it was broken in our move, and now that crack has been filled in and made into a beautiful part of the table.  It has been refinished several times to restore it to its beauty. 

We are broken people who gather around a broken table. 

This table is a daily reminder of redemption, restoration and grace. 

p.s. I could not seem to get enough of being up to my ears with stain and sandpaper and varnish and I also refinished my grandmother's sewing machine/table yesterday.... Wonder what's next? :)