Dad’s workshop

Dad's workbenchWhen I was a child, my dad had an awesome workshop out in our garage. It wasn’t huge, it wasn’t organized, it wasn’t clean or well-lit, it was just super cool. I loved exploring through the little tiny drawers filled with do-dads and whozits and what-nots from a bye-gone era. But what I loved most was when my dad was at work on one of his projects, and I got to stand at his side and just watch. Those of you who knew my dad know that he never got ruffled, never cussed when the hammer slipped, never lost his temper when the little ragamuffin got in his way. He never said much of anything, as I recall; he just worked quietly and peacefully and let the work speak for itself. I miss those days. And I enjoy trying to recreate some of those moments with my own children. Working together with a little child who can’t “really” help — but who really wants to —  that’s just one of life’s most special privileges.

That’s the picture that came to my mind this morning while I was jogging. I’ve been praying while I jog lately — for my family, for my friends, for my Sunday School 1st graders, etc. God has been challenging me to stretch myself into more meaningful and passionate intercession for the loved ones in my life, both near and far. I love to get out into the orchards or fields where I can pray out loud and gesticulate emphatically and not worry too much about any onlookers who might question my mental stability.

So as I was praying today, it occurred to me that intercession is like knocking on the door of God’s Workshop; like being invited in by a smiling Father who is genuinely pleased to have me join Him; like watching Him work at His ancient workbench, sawdust at our feet. It is like having the grand privilege of getting a little glimpse into what the Lord Himself is doing in the lives of my loved ones. But best of all, it is like working with Him, side-by-side, ragamuffin with Master Craftsman, not just observing but actually contributing my own thoughts and suggestions, and watching in awe and wonder as He actually chooses to use my meager prayers, weaving them into His own work, and in so doing, weaving more of His heart and compassion into my life as well. My prayers get incorporated into the lives of my friends and family, while God’s character gets woven more deeply into my soul. Astounding.

And the realization that He enjoys my company in His workshop as much as I enjoy Trevor in mine — well that’s just amazingly cool.

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