By Bill King
One of my “I think I have too many” hobbies is woodwork. I love to build things. While this is a fun hobby, it can also be a dangerous one. Anyone who operates tools, especially power tools like saws that cut at high speeds, runs the risk of injury.
Another hobby of mine is playing stringed instruments and trying my best to sing along while I play. Ordinarily, the best stringed instrument players are those who have all ten digits still attached to their hands. When I got my first power miter saw, a dear older friend warned me that those saws are not smart. He said, “They don’t know the difference between wood and bone!” Thankfully, I have never cut off a finger, but last week, I may have knocked some sense into myself.
It seems that the tool I have the most trouble with is the power belt sander. I have one that is stationary and one that is portable. On more than one occasion, I have gotten my fingers too close to the belt on the stationary one. The tips of my fingers, as well as my knuckles, should be smooth enough for paint by now! The portable one is my greatest nemesis! Once, the belt caught the electrical cord and rolled it right inside the sander. Getting that thing back out was more fun than removing a fish hook from a big catfish after he has swallowed that thing deeper than the fish swallowed Jonah! I spliced the wires back together and wrapped enough electrical tape around them to gain a first-and-ten! Last week, as I sanded a table top, that bump of electrical tape caught on the edge of the table and the sander pulled the cord into two-pieces again. To prevent a shocking experience, I unplugged the sander from my extension cord. I repeated the process of putting the wires back together.
When I bent over and plugged the cord back in, I immediately heard the sander come on, just before it slammed into the side of my head. I had forgotten that I had locked the trigger in the on position. My belt sander knocked me into the prone position. A belt sander has two long rollers on each end that look like a miniature version of an asphalt packer. Running unattended, those things can take off faster than the Road Runner running from Wile E. Coyote. It shot right off the end of the table and right up the side of my head! I did not hear birds singing, but I sure saw some stars!
What I did was not wise. I am thankful that I had no serious injuries, other than my ego! I didn’t need stitches, and I don’t have a black eye or swollen lip. I didn’t even go into concussion protocol, but I had a dandy of a headache and a sore noggin for a few days.
A long time ago, some men who were very wise (much wiser than me), saw stars too, but not from a power tool and not by accident. God gave them a star. They followed that bright-shining star, and it led them directly to the Christ child that had been born in Bethlehem. The gospel according to Matthew said, “The star went before them until it came and stood over where the young child was.” It was there that they found Jesus, fell down and worshipped, and gave him gifts. We can do the same thing, and we don’t even have to see stars to do so! Merry Christmas!
