This is our log pile we ordered three years ago to chunk and split for firewood. We heat our home with wood and coal with propane and oil as backups during our long northern winters.
These days the thing I fight spiritually the most is resentment. Not toward my husband, who can't help that a bacteria carrying tick bit him but toward God who has heaped my plate to past full. Do you ever feel like this?
The wood that never got cut is a constant reminder that while I can learn how to do a lot of things, and some of them like using an air nailer are a lot of fun, I draw the line at sixty pound chain saws. I am sure there are women out there who can wield them but I am a small person and appreciate my limbs too much to try.
I want to throw a grown up hissy fit and say, "Fine. I'll do it all myself. I'll wrangle eight children and homeschool six of them with a toddler and a newborn and figure out plumbing and cook and clean and fall apart All. On. My. Own."
God hasn't left me alone - this is the truth I preach to my heart daily in the midst of it. I have to speak truth to my sin0weary heart, a daily "cleansing with the washing of the Word" that the book of Ephesians speaks of. I have gorgeous kids who are God's tangible goodness in my life, who make me laugh, know how to load the dishwasher and rotate laundry and a husband who fears the Lord, prays over us, and works hard at his business. I have mama friends who love he Lord and walk life with me and pray over me, like Aaron ad Hur who held up Moses's arms when he was weak.
The neglected wood pile is not a sign that God has abandoned us but a reminder that I wasn't intended to do everything on my own. It is a constant reminder to fall back and rest on His all-sufficient, never wavering grace that He heaps upon my days.