Twelve Strong

by Rollie J

Today's devotion is reprinted from my book, Paying Attention II: God's Extrordinary Movements in Our Ordinary World.

This Devo is dedicated in memory of David L. Colemer, Jr., April 22, 1970 - September 21, 2020. Thank you for your service to our country and the many lives you've touched all around you, including mine.

White wood shavings flew in all directions. Each draw knife coaxing out a thinly sliced curly-cue of cream colored ash or hackberry wood. Brilliant morning sunshine splayed through the young greenery of our yard’s oak trees adding a cheeriness to the day and warmth to our backsides. It was a good start to our day.

Assembled around a circle in my drive way were twelve men. The bulk of these men sported long beards making me feel as though I was at a ZZ Top convention or part of a Duck Dynasty showing. The Classic oldies station blared from my ancient garage stereo adding to the relaxed and easy-going atmosphere. The men had come from all over. One had driven eight hours through the night from Iowa, another man awoke early to arrive from Bismarck, others from southern and western Minnesota and even a few local boys added to the mix.

They had all come for one purpose; to learn how to craft a wooden self-bow; a truly Native American bow carved from one stave of ash or hackberry wood. My good friend and superb instructor, Paul Speral and I were hoping that in eight hours, each man could go home carrying their own hand-crafted and fully lethal bow. Each man sat atop a bow-horse, hand crafted by four of our church’s Helping Hands retired men’s group, shaving and shaping sliver by sliver.

But these bow builders were no ordinary men. These men, twelve strong you might say, were Wounded Warriors. They had served our country faithfully in Iraq or Afghanistan and been wounded in combat. And now the Wounded Warrior Project (WWP) was coordinating various outreach programs and activities for these veterans.

The local WWP coordinator Dave Colemer, had come to me months before hearing that our church had done some unique and weird ministries that men might enjoy. We had lunch, and in my excitement, I rattled off a dozen of ideas ranging from canoe building, to canoe trips, to retreats, to flintknapping, to pig roasts and then we settled on building bows. Within a day of advertising the event, over 20 men had signed up. We chose 12 for our first experience.

So here we gathered in my driveway and yard on a beautiful spring day in May for fellowship via the art of crafting a bow. Each man seemed genuinely delighted and grateful to be here as sweat beaded on foreheads and furrowed brows displayed complete focus of attention to their new task. Paul and I tag-teamed going from man to man, assisting, helping, commenting, cheering on, measuring, testing poundage on the scale and showing them how to properly tiller their bows, making each limb bend symmetrically and equally. A true sense of comradery and fellowship began to grow and flourish.

When guys grew weary of the hard work of carving, we provided our own bows so they could test out and get a sense of flinging arrows from other primitive bows. Noon found us all gathered for a rest and a hearty barbeque on the deck and conversations grew and deepened. One fellow was a tank commander, another rode below the surface of the ocean and piloted a submarine. Some shared of their home lives, some shared of their struggles with civilian life, others shared their hopes and dreams. Some gave details of tough encounters they experienced at war. A couple men nodded in agreement that they would go back in a heart-beat. One fellow shared that he struggles big time with anger. For some their physical wounds were obvious, others were hidden. I could only guess at each man’s psychological wounds and haunting memories that may lurk beneath the surface.

Late in the afternoon I shared that our next event would be a canoe ride down the Red River that got enthusiastic nods and affirmations from all. The day ended as it began as each man or pair of men headed to their vehicles, most toting a brand new home-made bow or at least a partially built one. But before leaving, each and every man, to the man, came to Paul and me with a firm and hearty handshake and a heartfelt word of thanks. “Thank you sir. I appreciate you hosting this for us. Thoroughly enjoyed it.” My wimpy words of “Thank You” got stuck below the lump in my throat and barely eecked out as I thought of the sacrifices these men have made for me and our country.

I’ve always loved this quote: “Your Calling: is where your God given passions, talents and gifts intersect with the needs of a hurting world!”

What are you passionate about? What do you love to do? What talents and abilities has God gifted you with? Have you found a way to use that passion in order to serve someone in need? Love to hunt… then take someone else out and minister to them via the hunt! Love to sew… then sew up a storm and give the garment as a gift! Love to bowl… then take a dad-less kid bowling and minister to them via the activity of bowling! Love to cook… then invite a single mom and her three kids over for one of your fabulous meals and minister to them via your love for cooking. Love to get your hands greasy and fix engines… then hook up with a high school kid who needs a mentor, and minister to them via your love of mechanics! Love to bike… then buy a bike from the fix-it shop for the girl down the street who can’t afford it and take her biking with you! Love to go to the lake… then invite a young family who can’t afford that option to come join you and share your blessing with them!

AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO MINISTRY IN CHURCH!!! In fact, I believe the best ministry actually happens out in the world, on the street, in the real everyday places of life where people work and play. That’s what Jesus did! Staves of wood, bow horses and draw knives are not exactly on the budget priority list of most ordinary churches! But I believe Jesus and His companion the Holy Spirit were 100% present in the time we spent bow building. You could feel it!

What are you waiting for? Go now and serve God by serving someone else with the passions and talents that God first gave to you. Those gifts were not intended to be hoarded by you for your use only. You are blessed to be a blessing to others.

-- Rollie J.