Last week I had the honor of helping a dear friend with some fallen trees on his land. For you and me, we would take a chainsaw to a fallen tree and cut it into logs or split it into firewood — but not this guy. He takes the trunk of the tree and runs it through his mill to make planks. Recycling the fallen.
My dad made his living taking such pieces of wood, old and new, and transforming them into true works of art. Since childhood, fresh cut wood causes me to reflect on many great moments of sanding, drilling, cutting, glueing and ultimately experiencing my dad’s handiwork. His work was breathtaking.
And so, last week, while cutting these logs into planks . . . I noticed something I had never noticed before. I’ve always admired the grain of wood. The patterns that swirl around knots that number it’s years, it’s simply beautiful. But this time I realized this looks like a fingerprint.
The truth of what I was looking at, what I was admiring, had actually been touched by the hand of God. It was His fingerprint! With no two alike, God touched not just this tree, but every living thing . . . including me with His hand.
For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. Ephesians 2:10
My God, may I never overlook your handiwork in me! May I never discard the fact that your fingerprint is within me because you have fearfully and wonderfully created me. I am your workmanship!!