Splitting wood
Have you ever experienced the joy of splitting logs by hand with a splitting axe? The satisfying thunk that sends two halves flying in opposite directions, as the maul slices through the log like butter? It can be a beautiful thing.
I got a lot done yesterday morning. It started with sharpening and firing up the chainsaw to buck several large logs that had been sitting in my back yard for a while, waiting on me. Then splitting, hauling, and stacking in nice rows. It was good work, but it wasn’t easy. In fact, there were moments that were downright frustrating. There are some parallels with wood splitting and story-work counseling.
As I was gnawing through the large logs, my freshly sharpened chainsaw cut through easily…at least, for a while. After about 10 cuts it started to struggle. And then towards the end it got down right difficult to force it through the last couple of cuts. I spent more time on the last two cuts I made than I had spent on the previous dozen. Why?
Well, the first few logs I cut up had been hollow. That means there was less to cut through. But it also meant that there was dirt and a critter nest inside as well. Chainsaws are notorious for going dull quickly when cutting into dirt.
And then, after cutting it all up, splitting started off well. The smaller logs split easily, as did the hollow logs. But as some of the larger solid logs made it to the chopping block, things got more difficult. More than one swing literally bounced off the wood, rather than plunging in. They took way more force, and still didn’t want to split. I had to swing with borderline recklessness to get them to give an initial crack. For some, they eventually came apart. For others, I had to settle for slowly calving off sections from the outer portions until I got deep enough inside that it would split. And for a few, I had to waive the white flag and let them be. It seemed no matter how hard to tried, it wasn’t going to budge.
The same can be said for counseling. Often progress can be made easily and quickly in some areas- the shallower or hollow logs. Those parts of our stories don’t necessarily even require professional help. Quality brothers can help us cut and split and decipher how evil has come against us and help us discover the glory of God in us.
But there are spaces in each of us that are more densely formed – often where stress and trauma forced us to become particularly hard – that will not cut or split easily, and take months or even years of repeated hard work to break open. It can be such hard work that many times we just decide to waive the white flag and give up on the possibility of healing.
I have several logs like that in our back yard. Logs that were too large, too crotchety, too difficult to split, that I set aside and let lay. They are now rotted and not worth putting on a fire. They won’t keep us warm in the winter, or provide the enjoyment of s’mores with friends. They merely grow a variety of fungi, and slowly decay.
What easy wins have you experienced in your own story-work? How have those brought fresh warmth to your life and your family?
What areas of your story feel like they might be too densely twisted to ever see the light of day?
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Cody Buriff, Director of Resource Initiatives
