“But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but act all should reach repentance.” 

2nd Peter 3:8-9

Grandpa loved his grandson. And it was clear the sun rose and set around grandpa for his little fella. The young lad was 3 years old. I was sitting with the family following grandpa’s death. Listening to stories. Offering words of hope. Planning for the funeral that would happen early the next week. Grandpa was a remarkable man in many respects. But, it was his weekly time with his favorite little guy that brought him the greatest joy. These two were connected at the hip. 

Grandpa was a tinkerer. He kept busy building, fixing, and making things better. He was never bored and his to do list of projects only grew. He could fix or build just about anything. And he loved his partner in the workshop. He loved teaching and showing his grandson how tools worked and how to fix things. And, as the little guy grew, grandpa would sit and teach his grandson how to use the tools. 

They built a birdhouse one day. Well, it probably took several days. It was the first project where the grandson took the lead. Grandpa was there showing, guiding, teaching. But, as much as possible, it was the young child that did the work. He used the hand saw. He hammered the nail. He turned the screwdriver. It took forever. A young child using a saw is a lot slower than an accomplished tinkerer! It took forever.

On one occasion the hammer missed the nail. Never mind all the times it hit grandpas hand. This time it hit the wood and the piece broke. I’ve broken pieces when working on a project. Have you? Frustration and anger wash over me. Not grandpa. His response? Patience and love. This was a teaching moment. Grandpa never lost sight of the whole point of what he was doing with his grandson. It was never about the birdhouse. It was never about getting the project done. The whole point was to be with his grandson. It was to help him grow, to give him skills, and to instill beautiful self-confidence in his favorite little fella. He was using the birdhouse to invest time in his grandson.

It wasn’t the most beautiful birdhouse when it was complete. But, it was the most beautiful for all the right reasons. They brought that birdhouse to the church for the funeral. It told the story of Grandpa without saying a word.

Your Father in heaven resembles that grandpa. He doesn’t need your help to do His work. He doesn’t need your help to complete the restoration of this world. The one who tells the boundaries of the water where they stop has all the basis covered. You and I don’t bring much to the table to add to what God is doing. 

Neither did Grandpa’s helper. The whole process took a lot longer. A lot longer! Maybe that was the whole point…

With God, efficiency is rarely the goal. 2,000 years after the resurrection, it is safe to say that God is not in a hurry in bringing about the culmination of His work. He is patient because completing the work isn’t as important as inviting you into the work. He doesn’t need you. He wants you. He wants you to be a part of what He is doing. The Lord invites you into His mission. Just like that grandson—you and I slow Him down. We break things. We get things wrong. We mess it up. Really, we bring nothing to the equation except frustration and headaches. 

But, the Father loves you. And He delights in you being a part. He celebrates the joy of passing on His knowledge to you. He wants to teach you how He restores things. How He has tinkered with creation—how He is still involved in all of it. He points out the ways in which it is broken and the methods, skills, and tactics He uses to bring things together again. 

Your Father in heaven is healing the world. But He wants you to be a part of it all. He invites you in. He teaches you how to hold the tools. He shows you the blueprints. He sits with you. And He never grows weary as you fail over and over again to get the nail to go in straight, the saw to cut, and so much more. He never grows weary of showing you another way to love. To serve. To heal. 

Don’t give up. Sit with the Master Carpenter–He’ll teach you.

Who is someone that has taught you a skill? Give them a phone call or write them a letter to say thanks. And share how their time and love helped you to grow in ways beyond skill acquisition.