The Beach Sign

I made this for Amy one day in my wood shop.  

I had glued up a project I was working on and had time left before I had to be home.  

This was a piece of wood I had found on the beach in Birch Bay.  Not particularly fancy or exciting.  I liked that it was painted and weathered and it kind of looked like it was pointing.  I imagined it was a washed-up piece of a pirate ship long sunk somewhere off the coast.

I did not need another parcel of wood cluttering up my shop.  But I wanted it.  So I picked it up and stuffed it away in a bin at my wood shop.  

Well, I pulled it out that day and clamped it down to my work bench.  I laid out my chisels and my mallet.  Usually I take just a few minutes to look at the wood and try to imagine the finished piece before I ever make a mark on it.

Then I picked up a chisel and my mallet.  Set the blade to rest on the wood and struck the end.  About an hour or so later I wiped away the remaining wood chips and laid down my chisel and mallet.  

At that moment, something happened in me.  Something broke loose.  A spring of joy burst and I smiled and grabbed my phone.  I sent Amy a text that I was on my way home and that I had something for her.  

When I got home I unloaded some stuff from my car and finally walked in the house with the sign behind my back.  As I showed it to Amy her face lit up with enthusiasm.  She took hold of it and just looked at it and touched it and smiled.  She knew what it took to make it.  I knew it would be something she would appreciate it.  

She loved it.  

I loved it.  

Neither one of us needed it.  

But both of us wanted it.  

Without it neither of us would be any poorer or less off.  Our measure of joy would still be what it is today, no more, no less.  

But with it both of us got to express that measure of joy in a manner we would not have gotten to otherwise.  

Curiously, now, if it were taken away, we would miss it and be sad even.  I worked hard on it and made it out of the gifts and abilities I have.  Amy received it and presented it in a prominent place.  Now, I can't imagine not having it again.  

Our God is fully self-existent and self-sufficient.  Among other things that actually means, often enough the truth of that seems to exclude any useful need for you and me.  I wonder though, if this brief story about the beach sign helps us imagine just how necessary we may very well be to God?