A woodshop can teach more about hope than a self-help book. We open with a simple story about a friend who scours lumber yards for warped offcuts and busted pallets, then turns them into game cabinets, shelves, and gifts that surprise everyone who sees them. The trick isn’t magic tools; it’s trained eyes, patient hands, and a habit of planing past the ugly top layer until the clean grain shows through. That moment in the shop becomes a living parable for anyone who feels like the discard pile...
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A woodshop can teach more about hope than a self-help book. We open with a simple story about a friend who scours lumber yards for warped offcuts and busted pallets, then turns them into game cabinets, shelves, and gifts that surprise everyone who sees them. The trick isn’t magic tools; it’s trained eyes, patient hands, and a habit of planing past the ugly top layer until the clean grain shows through. That moment in the shop becomes a living parable for anyone who feels like the discard pile...
Ever feel like you’ve got “nothing left” except a little bit of energy, a small skill, or one last idea? We take a fresh look at the story of the widow and her oil from 2 Kings 4 and pull out simple, actionable lessons for mornings when life feels thin. In just a few minutes, we move from the heaviness of scarcity to the relief of practical hope by asking two clear questions: what do you have, and how much room have you made for what you’re asking for? I We would love to hear your comments...
Starting Right
A woodshop can teach more about hope than a self-help book. We open with a simple story about a friend who scours lumber yards for warped offcuts and busted pallets, then turns them into game cabinets, shelves, and gifts that surprise everyone who sees them. The trick isn’t magic tools; it’s trained eyes, patient hands, and a habit of planing past the ugly top layer until the clean grain shows through. That moment in the shop becomes a living parable for anyone who feels like the discard pile...
