Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Cross (as in the Cross of Christ) (08/17/06)
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TITLE: feed the wood | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lisa Hendricks
08/21/06 -
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Those words caught me off guard. I was following this woman, taking notes as we walked around her house. I was to be her new housekeeper, and she wanted to make sure I knew exactly what to do.
“Excuse me, I’m not sure what you meant by feeding the wood. What does that mean?” I asked.
“See this hutch here?” she asked. “It’s an antique from my grandmother.” As she ran her hand across the front of the piece, I could see the tiny cracks on the cabinet doors.
“It cracks because it’s dry. The wood absorbs the oil as you wipe it on. In essence, you are feeding it.” After she finished explaining it, we moved on to another part of the house.
The next week I used my key to enter the house. This time, I was on my own and I immediately set off to cleaning. The lady’s list was long, and I needed to go to a church in town before I raced home to get my kids off the bus. I fed her wood last. Immediately after my towel swept across the dry cracks, the wood appeared fresh and clear of imperfections. I was amazed at what a little oil and attention would do.
I didn’t think much more about it. I was in a hurry to get to that church, which was way across town. It was important that I get there today.
There was a large cross on the top of the building and the word “Sanctuary” inscribed above the door. I parked my car, took a deep breath for courage and went inside.
“I was told that I could get some assistance with food and gas here. Who do I need to talk with?”
I was waiting for that sympathetic look I always got when I had to ask for something, but it didn’t happen. Instead, she smiled at me and pointed to the chairs.
“Pastor Mike is just finishing up a phone call and then he’ll be right with you. Just grab a chair and make yourself comfortable.” Why would I need to talk to a pastor? Was he going to ask a lot of questions? Religious people made me nervous.
A short, bald man came out an office door. He had on faded blue jeans and a funky orange sweater.
“Hi! I’m Pastor Mike.” He said.
“Um…I’m Elsie.” For some reason, that smile and the greeting seemed genuine. I decided to try to get a good look at him.
“Well Elsie, it’s good to meet you. Why don’t you come on back and we’ll chat for a minute.”
He sat in a chair across from me. “So Elsie, I understand that you need some assistance today. Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions first?”
“No. Go ahead.” I figured he was going to ask me what I didn’t get a better job, or where my husband was.
“Elsie, how are things going for you? I don’t mean financially, I mean with you. Are you doing okay?” I was caught off-guard. I told him how rough things had been lately. He asked if I had someone close to me that I could talk to. I told him friends seem like friends only when things are going good for you.
“Have you ever thought about praying?” When he asked that question, I started to cry. I was so drained, but I didn’t know Jesus or God or how to talk to them. “Why would they listen to me?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you a story.” Pastor Mike told me the most amazing story about Jesus. He told me that He died on the cross, and how it was His precious blood that wiped our sins away. He told me that I could be forgiven too, and that Jesus wanted to talk with me in my prayers. I only had to ask.
As I listened to the story, my mind went back to the hutch I fed today. I thought about the wood with all its cracks, and how the oil washed them all away. I thought about Jesus’ blood, and how it poured out on the cross to wipe my sins away. And I knew it was something I wanted in my life. I looked up and smiled at Pastor Mike through my tears. I wanted to hear more about this Jesus.
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