God-Shaped


Dad’s little cabinet shop on Texas Street played a role in my formation.

There were always cleanup chores to keep the shop swept and to teach me responsibility.  In the back corner of the shop, Dad had a wood lathe and a box of sharp wood chisels.

Should a broken, ornate chair leg need replacing, he secured a square piece of oak onto the lathe. The oak began its high-speed rotation and with the wood chisels, he would carve away everything that wasn’t a duplicate of the ornate table leg.

When I emerged from the waters of baptism the spirit of Jesus the Master Carpenter moved in and began to reside in a freshly renovated dwelling. He immediately began to form the dwelling into the shape of God.

My only role in the process was the desire to be God shaped and to make my life available. All I brought to God was the very life he created. I acknowledged my life as his possession. It was in the conversion experience when God clamped my square piece of oak tight into his lathe. He began to create me into his form.

I desired to be more patient. God selected his sharp chisel and chips began to fall to the floor. God saw my need to be more loving. He chose the tool and more chips fell to the ground. Joy and peace took yet another tool—more chips flew. It took yet another tool to work on kindness and goodness. Chips continued to fly to the floor. He selected the tool for self-control. Chips flew in an abundant cloud. His set of golden chisels included tools to work on faithfulness and gentleness. The wood dust and chips continue to accumulate in a pile on the floor at the bottom of the lathe.

When it comes my turn to enter into the restored garden of God, all of my fallen chips tinted by Satan’s garden mess will lay on the ground for consumption with the remainder of evil occupying the earth.

What will remain is a God-Shaped life ready to enter the restored garden. That is a neat thought to realize God’s powerful hand can make of my life an image that is God Shaped.

What are your reflections? Stay tuned. – Gary Sorrells

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