Carving

A friend of mine carved loons. Each knife stroke was purposeful. As he worked, slowly the loon emerged, exquisite in its detail, every feather distinct. Carving is an amazing craft. Our native people talk about releasing the image that is hidden in the wood, giving freedom to its soul. For the carver, there is peace and creativity; for the wood, or soap stone, etc. there is new life.
I received a story on the email one time about a monstrous stone laying on a young couple’s front lawn. In the beginning, the ugly stone was in the way. Too heavy to move, the young husband, a stone sculptor, began to chip away at this eyesore. Eventually, an exquisite elephant emerged, sleek and round, his trunk raised in victory. “How did you do it?” a passerby asked. The sculptor offered this simple answer. “I just chipped away everything that wasn’t elephant.”
Too often, we see others like that front yard stone, useless, ugly, unnecessary. “Let’s throw him away,” we say. “Put her behind bars, that’s what she deserves.” “Drugs and alcohol have ruined them. They’re useless.” Or “He’s so miserable, it’s impossible to love him.” God, the master carver, knows what is hidden within our being. God has created and loves us. God calls us to hold the vision of God’s beloved child in everyone we meet, including ourselves. Together with God, we can love away all that isn’t part of that vision. It takes time and skill. One person can never do it alone. But together, with each stroke of love, purposeful and caring, we will see emerge a person of beauty. It takes patience, determination, and trust in God. Remember Mary’s words, “Nothing will