Wood ... or just Trees?

A few years ago I visited a tiny cottage in rural Lincolnshire that had been preserved as nearly as possible in the same state as it's last occupant had left it when she'd died in the 1970s or ’80s.  In a chest in the bedroom, I spotted a small item that I recognised.  The curator observed, 'I don't expect you know what that is,' and was quite surprised when I told him, 'It's a promise box!'  

For the benefit of the many of whom he thought I was one, let me explain that this little box was about five inches by four, and not more than two inches high.  It was made of either stiff card or thin wood, and was covered by paper bearing a tiny floral pattern reminiscent of the wallpaper of the early 20th century.  The slightly tapered lid could be removed to reveal lots of little scrolls; each one bore a verse of scripture that announced one of God’s many promises to mankind.  They were a source of reassurance of our Lord’s presence and provision, particularly in times of sorrow or hardship.  These boxes can still be obtained in many different forms, but their heyday was about 100 years ago; often they would be a parting gift for a sweetheart left behind when her young man went off to war.

In that context, the young man's thoughts would be focused on the girl's fidelity, and the box might be a tangible reminder of him.  It might inspire her to trust that he would return.  Trust is, too, a feature in our own twenty-first century lives.  We hear much these days about recycling, a topic that quickly broadens out to include abandoning the use of fossil fuels, organic farming, and everything that is ‘green’.  God has provided all that this world needs for the good of man – if only we could trust Him for that, and follow His guidance in organising its proper use.  To that end, one of the aims of conservation or recycling is to ensure that the provided resources are available to people who would otherwise be without.

Another parallel with the simple idea of the promise box is the fact that much of the world’s news is of an alarming nature, and it is easy to worry about our own safety.  I read some while ago that “worry is like a rocking chair: it gives you something to do, but gets you nowhere”.  I'm inclined to think that, whether we are fearful for safety or resources, it’s all a matter of perception, like the illustration of the glass that is either half full or half empty.  We need to be reassured that we can trust in God for the blessings that He has promised.

Let me finish with yet another illustration.  Those promise boxes were but one example of the versatility of wood.  Look around: do you see the wood, with its great potential … or simply trees?