“As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” Proverbs 27:17
Sarah and I have long had this verse in mind regarding each other–she cross-stitched it for me. . .I’d end letters to her with it–back when I wrote them. It holds true to this day–we sharpen each other–even though our visits and even phone calls are few and far between.
I have had a long passion with writing my thoughts–but scarcely had the chance to do so in the past 7 1/2 years. . .so Sarah starts a blog and gives me a wonderful benefit every day. . .and inspires me to write my own. I have a back log of things to pen. . .or type. . .and now a place to put them thanks to her.
My friend Amy is the early-childhood curriculum queen of the universe. She finds wonderment in owning a book loosely entitled, “Edible Art Projects of the Bible.” Somehow–she decided I was the person to help her with some jobs at church VBS, Bible hour, etc. I cared not about edible art projects. I teach kids all day and prefer the role of teaching adults at church, but over the past four or five years, we have honed each other to the point that we can solve a curriculum problem in about 3 minutes flat, and we don’t even go to church together any more!!! I think we actually scare our husbands with our ability to fill in the chink the other seems to be struggling to fill.
Stephanie, my art friend from college days, has her own blog come to find out–and so even though we were friends 15 years ago–and even though we haven’t seen each other in 10–she’s inspired me to write things down that are dear to me just by virtue of mentioning something on her blog that triggered a memory in me.
My list knows no bounds. . .Carolyn, Tommie, Amy K., Mary, Katrina, my own dear Tony and my precious babies.
Hear the sound of metal scraping across a wet stone? That sound is etched in my brain from childhood. My Daddy sharpened all of our knives on a wet stone–old as the hills–a little oil and he’d go to town–smooth even strokes that made Momma’s knives razor sharp. When they got a little dull and weren’t up to the job for which they were intended, she’d lay them by Daddy’s side of the table, and before the night was up, she’d have a knife with which to reckon the next time she needed to cut something. (My brother, sister, and I learned how to handle really sharp knives from an early age.) All it took was some sharpening–and isn’t it grand that God gives us the same opportunity with others–to sharpen–to hone–to make useful again after we’ve become dull.
So thank you, friends. Thank you for giving me the “excuse” to be creative. . .even when I don’t think I have the time.