Craftsmanship

May 22, 2018

Working meticulously, I slowly pulled the tape, revealing the crisp edges of the casting and exposing the grey stone beneath. A few days ago, I masked the stone in preparation for the paint I intended to spray on the cast iron framework. Yesterday, I laid down the paint, and this afternoon, it was time to unveil the project. With each strip of tape, a bit more of the stone was exposed till the stove sat there in all its earthen glory, and I stood back to admire my handiwork.

Craftsmanship is almost a lost art these days. “Good enough” seems to be good enough for most people, so when we see real artistry, it captures our attention. Whether it’s a classical musician who plays long, involved sonatas from memory, or the carpenter  whose crown molding fits the corner with a joint so tight you couldn’t slide a piece of paper between them. Years ago when our boys wanted to earn their own money mowing lawns, I inspected their work at the beginning. I made sure they trimmed the edges, swept the sidewalks, and picked up twigs and leaves. They balked, but I told them, “You learn to take care of the details now, when you get a real job, you’ll do what to you is an average job, but everyone will want you because that ordinary work is actually very extraordinary.

I wonder if when he formed Adam from the dust of the ground, God stood in breathless anticipation, examining his handiwork, making a last minute adjustment or two before inhaling deeply and blowing into the man’s nostrils the breath of life. I can imagine him talking quietly to himself, “You really outdid yourself this time!” And when Adam took that first breath all on his own, I can picture God standing there, admiring his work with the same satisfaction I felt this afternoon. Craftsmanship is from God, the Author of detail and beauty beyond our understanding. I appreciate it more than I can produce it, and am thankful for any small portion of it that has rubbed off on me.