"'There once
was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of
nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a
nail into the back of the fence.
The first day the boy had driven 37
nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control
his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down.
He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails
into the fence.
Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his
temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that
the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his
temper. The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his
father that all the nails were gone.
The father took his son by the hand
and led him to the fence He said, 'You have done well, my son, but look
at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you
say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a
knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times you say
I'm sorry, the wound is still there.'
The little boy then understood how powerful his words were. He looked up
at his father and said 'I hope you can forgive me father for the holes I
put in you.'
'Of course I can,' said the father."
Often, the point drawn from this story is that words hurt. But I want to focus on something else: The power of the wood left behind. Let me explain.
One of my friends in high school was a cutter. I was fascinated by his scars - not because I was macabre (although I was), but because he had stopped self-injuring and become a Christian. Those scars were now part of his redemption story. He was embarrassed by them, hid them with long sleeves, but to me they were beautiful banners of God's transformation and healing.
I love those visual reminders of our journeys.
I love that we have proof that we haven't always been where we are today.
I love that these "holes in wood" keep us humble, keep us permanent students.
My daughter became a permanent student at 9 months of age. She has a scar on her forehead from being too headstrong in a porcelain bathtub. Hilarious symbolism aside, it will be a great opportunity for us to teach her as she gets older that she's already reaped lifelong consequences of disregarding wise counsel.
And learning continues in our home. I have a scar on my arm from hurrying too much while cooking, receiving a long kiss one evening from the oven rack. You better believe that I've slowed down considerably in the kitchen!
See, we all have holes in wood from bad habits, signature sins, our pasts. Some of us hide them, denying them and, consequently, their power from our testimony. But wouldn't it be great if we embraced them as our loving Daddy has, weaving them into our connected stories so others can learn from them, be encouraged by them, praise God for how he has brought us to our current place of being? Maybe a little something like the letters found at Verses 3 to 5...
I hope the dad in the story decided to keep the fence as it was. That way, the son will always be reminded of his temper, but also grace and redemption.
