Being in the way of God's will

Well its winter time again, which means I have to start working on the wood pile. Since I'm not a lumberjack, we cheat and buy a stack of the good stuff for burning at night, but I still have to cut and split a bunch of pine for the evening time.

Splitting wood is a lot of work, but some pieces are nicer than others. As I was smacking away at some pieces the other day it got me thinking about myself and God. No I'm not a hammer, disrupting God's paradise ... No actually I was thinking about how some pieces of wood react gracefully to being split and then some don't. Some pieces are straight and dry and even already cracking a little on the ends. When you hit them they split apart nicely, sometimes on the first try.

Other pieces, however, hang onto their old ways with all their might. They've twisted up the fiber of their being and are filled with knots. These are the real problem cases. Even the first splitter doesn't always do the job, getting stuck half way, despite repeated blows and effort from each end and even some smacks in the middle. This one was a real bear:

But in the end, the piece is split (at least somewhat). I've never not split a piece of wood. One way or another it was begrudgingly used for the purpose for which I originally intended. We do not give up on wood. Even if it takes every splitter I have, the camp axe, and a pruning saw; the wood eventually makes it into the stove to heat the house.

As I thought about this, I thought about God's plans for me. My purpose. Sometimes I feel like that knotty piece of wood.