Chop Wood

My most recent splitting station after hundreds of strikes

Grind Your Axe

When I was twelve years old I learned how to use a whetstone. It was around the same time, I was baptized. Coarse grain first, find the edge of the bit, keep the pressure constant, then flip to the fine grain side. Continue to baptize the stone after every few strokes. 

Twenty years later, recalling that lesson as I sharpened a bit, I was considering what in the world is church for? Buildings modeled after basilicas though we are miles and millenia away from the Rome that made them; stories set in what seems like a time gone by. 

But the maul I sharpen does not bear much difference from the ones swung in Gaul while Caesar marched his legions to the sea. The trees still split all the same. The Proverb still holds true: fire consumes and never says enough. Fire still can only be starved.

Though ages have passed, we still seek to be sharpened.

Perfect Your Form

There is a brief meditation that happens with each swing. Moving my breath deep into my diaphragm, holding the wind as I anchor my feet. My arms pendulum to raise the handle and head. My target is already known. Air releasing as the steel fissures the section.

How many times have I swung an axe? How many times have I gone to church? 

There have been logs I have loathed, knots twisted in the cylinders that will take several blows before they break into uneven pieces, pieces unfit for kindling. These sections need a raging flame to burn. Yet, I always look forward to putting them in the fire.

We probably have much in common with any person that could ever put themselves in a pew. Will I let single differences or even a collection of concerns stop me from honing myself in community? 

We all could use a deeper breath before we take a swing at the things between us…

Warms You Twice

I had a friend bring us a truck full of wood last season. Rounds of lumber mounding the bed of an old F-150.  After unloading and stacking each piece, with a Pabst Blue Ribbon beer in hand, he said:

“Chop Wood, it warms you twice”

And he was right.

Not just about the wood and the warmth but as an allegory for life. 

To go to church and contend with the content, is there not a fire stoked in your agreement or disagreement with the words? And from that contention, with the other six of the seven days of the week, can you not find and refine what you believe?

Grind your axe. Perfect your form.

Go to church and chop your wood. It’ll warm you twice.

Until next week,

-Steven

PS. Last week I posted a video detailing my daily evening journaling exercise. For those of you are into prompt engineering yourself the old fashion way, this video is for you.