Hardwood Floor

Wednesday, 17. March 2010 by Ronald T. Brown, Ph.D.

A clever guy, that Jesus.

Last weekend, I got to help my friend Shannon install new hardwood flooring in his living room, kitchen and front hall. Typically, I don’t need much instruction when it comes to destroying things, so Friday night’s removal of the carpeting, trim, etc., didn’t take much brainwork. Saturday’s installation of the dark oak surface, however, would be a different story altogether.

By the time I arrived the next morning, Shannon and fellow flooring expert Gene already had the operation humming. Right away, the math teacher (code for the anal side of me) insisted upon organizing the wood piles by length and width, upon which I waited for my marching orders.

For the floor’s sake, I lucked into a relatively simple job. From wall to wall, I would lay out the next row of wood. With 3 different widths of wood and 10 different lengths, this puzzle was perfect for my mathematical sensibilities. Once I had laid out the row, I began to gently hammer each piece into place so the seams were airtight. Gene would follow me and staple that piece into the floor for eternity. 

I ate it up—I loved the experience. It felt good to be doing manual labor, surrounded by sawdust, powerful tools, constant noise and (last, but not least) men who actually knew what they were doing. As for me, I could at least fake it while in their midst.

Honestly, there were moments I felt like I was in a Black and Decker commercial.

By mid-afternoon, we had installed roughly half of Shannon’s living room and kitchen floor—not a bad day’s work. I remember admiring our crew’s handiwork and thinking that Jesus had been a carpenter, too.

But it wasn’t until the next day that I realized how deeply spiritual this experience had actually been. On first glance, I had been busy installing pieces of dark oak. But all the while, Jesus had been showing me about what it will look like to follow Him in new ways. Maybe God will highlight one of them for you:

Lesson #1: I did what I was told because it was someone else’s floor

First, I relied on Shannon and Gene for directions and guidance the whole afternoon. I did what I was told, and honestly, I preferred it that way. On my own, I knew I had no idea what I was doing. Plus, this was Shannon’s floor, not mine, and I didn’t trust myself when it came to someone else’s floor.

Somewhere in that observation, there’s a lesson to be had. The prophet Jeremiah was onto something when he finally grasped that his life didn’t belong to him, that his Lord had earned the right to direct him. Imagine if I lived my life with that kind of dependence on God’s directions.

“Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” –Proverbs 19:21

Imagine if I had the patience and desire to wait for clear instructions before I acted. And imagine if I fully realized that this life is God’s, not mine, and I don’t (and shouldn’t) trust myself with it.

When I woke up Monday morning, I got out of bed slower than usual. That weekend, I had exercised muscles which apparently hadn’t been used in a while. When I arrived at school, Shannon immediately asked me if I was sore, too. I threw a knowing glance his way—heck yes, I was sore. Any time you do things you haven’t done in a while—or things you’ve never done—you can expect some soreness.

So lesson #2: If I’m trying to imitate Jesus, then I should be experiencing new kinds of soreness

Jesus wanted to elaborate here. Can you guess what ached the most? Well, having crawled around on my knees all afternoon, they were a little tender. And being bent over for several hours, my lower back let me know that it didn’t appreciate the pop quiz I had given it that weekend.

“Now Daniel…went into his house; and his windows being open in his chamber toward Jerusalem, he kneeled upon his knees three times a day, and prayed, and gave thanks before his God….”  —Daniel 6:10

So, is all of this a coincidence? Honestly, I don’t buy that. Because…

Lesson #3: I haven’t been on my knees or humbly bowing before my Lord near as much as I should.

My friend Morgan and I were talking about these Monday Moments last week. Morgan remarked that she wonders where I come up with them. My thoughts were rudely interrupted as Jesus playfully slapped me upside the head.

“But that’s just it,” I told her. “I don’t come up with them.”

I’m not smart enough to make these connections, let alone do it week after week. If you believed that, then you were overestimating me big-time. Like I said at the beginning, Jesus is one clever, resourceful dude. He’ll use anything.

Do you feel you struggle to hear from God? You might simply take a quiet, long look at a recent experience in your life.

The hardwood floor was mine—not yours. I don’t say that to hog it. I only say that because I find it absurd that God wouldn’t be trying to talk to you, too. I personally believe you’ve had your very own hardwood floor experience. Probably in the past week, no less. So…what was it.