Everything I learned about life I learned at pack meeting

A few weeks ago I went to pack meeting.  No, no, i went to DEN meeting.  I’m told there is a huge difference.  But they seem interchangeable to me. 

So I went to DEN meeting with Alex, a special one that one parent had to attend. 

The pocket knife meeting.  (or whatever they really call it in proper scout lingo. 

Bro. Lively, “Now this piece of word is pretty big.  And this knife is pretty small.  I can’t cut this wood in half with the tiny knife I've have like this (he makes a sawing motion).  But I still can cut it in half, by whittling down little pieces until I can snap the wood.  See how I'm doing this?  Cut with long, soft motions.  When you take shavings off a piece of wood, you don’t want to take off  a piece.  You have the best control when you go slow and press lighter.  When you push hard, and try to get a big piece, you’ll end up with a rough cut.  Like this*.”

It struck me as so profound.   I wish I had photos to show, because hearing the words, as Bro.  Lively worked the wood was amazing.  So imagine this.  It was a rough piece of wood.  Like outdoor fencepost wood, but thinner.  And when he used the proper, controlled, soft touch, he made nice shavings.  Barely deep enough for the eye to tell a sliver of wood was lost.  But at the end of his cut were the shavings, still half attached, curled into the most delicate and beautiful curls.  I wanted to take a picture right at the moment that he had built up around five of those.  It was like the wood was having a party, finally it was getting cut apart.**  

I thought of me as I watched the pretty curly wood be formed from a straight stick.  I though of change.  And life.  And how unhappy I was with this body.   But I DO have a BODY.  The scout master had a knife.  He happened to have a small knife.   I’m not happy with the body I was given.  But I do have a body.  It’s mine, and even though it can’t do everything, it can do some things.  The scout masters knife was too small to saw the wood in half, he could still make it into two parts.  It would take more time that way, but it could be done.  If he had a bigger knife, or a saw, or a chain saw, he could make a cut, fast and smooth.  But he only had a pocket knife.  

My body is too small, too weak, to sensitive to make a big difference as a mom/wife/friend.   Or really, to make the big difference I had wanted to make as a mom/wife/friend.***  But I can make a difference.  It’s going to be slower than I want too.  But it will be progress, it will be something at some speed.  I don’t want to throw next year or more of my life away because I was moaning about what I really wanted in a body.  I want to want to enjoy what I can do in this body.  I want to want to be happy with the smaller ways I’m able to serve my family.  I want to show my kids that no matter what happens, even if your knife is suddenly swapped for a smaller one, that you can still cut the wood.  I CAN still have a life. 

 

In wood, you make a deep, ugly gash at the end of your pattern.  It’s called a stop cut.  It’s there for your knife to hit when you carve.  It does 2 things.  It keeps you within the lines of your pattern.  And when you hit the line, you get a smooth break.  IN THE VERY END, the pattern will have nice, sharp edges.  And fine detail…say a beak…doesn’t break off.

I can see a stop cut like rules and goals.   They keep you on whatever path you have set for yourself.  And they keep your life smoother, happier, so that you can have A GREAT FINAL PICTURE.   A picture you may not see in this life.  But it’s there.  And there are limits for now that will lead to a ROCKING PICTURE.  I know mine is going to be, because it has so many stop cuts.  Deep gashes, ugly and frankly painful now.  But it just means more detail in my rocking eternal picture. 

I’ve already lost my audience….I’m the only one reading my writing now.  I know how long winded I get.   Today has been a good day.  I can see the purpose to the painful “stop cuts”.   But if I happen to read this on a bad day, where NOTHING can even EASE the pain, I will laugh, and say I didn’t know what I was thinking.  And if I ever share it with someone WHILE there “stop cut” or trial or CRAPPY CRAPPY time is happening, they will laugh too.  It might not be out loud.   It might be in the mind, dripping with sarcasm and also wishes for the speaker to feel the same pain you feel.  Also the same pain felt the same WAY you feel it.  Then they can give you stupid advice about whittling and stop cuts and knifes and wood. 

PS.  Grant and I talked about this.  He reminded me it really doesn’t matter how great or bad your knife is…it matters if it is SHARP.  You could even cut down a pine tree with a pocket knife, if you KEPT MAKING IT SHARP.     Did you get your spiritual knife sharpened today?  I sure did!  Thanks for the awesome talks, Tammy and Kim Risenmay.

 

*okay…he didn’t say it exactly like that.  But I thought I might be considered rude if I took notes for my blog during the lesson.  Or, I could have looked really stupid that I was taking notes during the scout lesson.   This is my best recollection of what he said.  If Bro. Lively wants to contact me and edit his words, I would welcome it."

**the only thing that stopped me from taking a photo was distraction.  I didn’t want to distract the boys from learning, especially after the first words of the lecture started with, “You have to pay attention when you are working with knives.”  I didn’t want a poor boy to get cut tonight because I wanted  a photo for the blog, and the boy was focused on me and not the safety training.  There are some limits I won’t cross for my blog. 

***please insert what fits best for you in place of mom: friend or wife or sister or grandchild or neighbor or visiting teacher or hostess or missionary or “sister in Christ”

 

Note from editor:  This post was written weeks ago, but I wanted to get something new up.  But… I’m on lots of drugs to keep my migraine manageable right now.  We’ll see how much that effected my ability to edit another day!