Lessons from The Table

by Mike Peercy, Executive Director of Fostering Grace

One of the challenges I encountered on my journey with this table was dealing with the reality of knotholes.

Most of them were simply scars in the wood that may have cracks in them, but there were others that caused me to lay a piece aside because I didn’t know how to accommodate the significance of that particular scar.

But then there was one that just happened to end up at what would become the edge of the table. It seemed pretty solid, but during the seemingly countless hours of sanding, the knot fell out. I didn’t see it at first and then I couldn’t find the piece that fell out so that I could put it back. So it left a ragged chunk missing in the side of the table top.

At that point it pressed me to a hard decision. Do I cut off a couple of inches on both sides of the table or do I try to smooth this out as best I can and leave this scar on the edge of the table. I consulted with our friend—it was her table, after all—and I think we both had the same idea. We determined to leave it there. I smoothed it out to be sure there were no jagged, splintery edges, but the knothole is still there.

But why?

I’m told that knots are formed in trees when there is a branch that has to be or happens to be broken off or trimmed away. It is, in essence, a scar of something that was supposed to be healthy that was lost. Maybe it was removed because it wasn’t healthy. Maybe it was removed because it wouldn’t allow the tree to grow well. Maybe there was some disease or illness in the branch that would have deeply affected the tree.

For people that work in the field of foster care and adoption, this visual has probably already struck the soul-deep chord that resonated in me throughout this process. For a child to be adopted into a family, something profoundly significant in the child’s life has been lost. A connection that was supposed to be strong and healthy was not able to be maintained.

It’s easy to lose sight of the fact that, even in the most peaceful and beautiful adoption stories, there is a deep and abiding loss. The child can grow in a healthy and loving environment with all of the nurture and structure and compassion and support you could ever imagine, but there is still a scar of loss there—like a knothole in the heart.

Some craftsmen simply will not consider the board with the knot in it. It interferes with the refined look they hope to achieve. But others recognize the beauty in light of the scars, the marks of the wonder of survival and thriving even around the scars that mark its history.

I believe that this table and its multiple knots reflect the brokenness AND the beauty of the stories that surround it. Every relationship that had to be cut away in order to thrive, every story of loss that shaped their family, and the deep, deep love that holds in sacred honor the losses and the scars even while building up a strong, healthy, healing space around them.

Knotholes are inevitable. They tell a story.

This time we chose to honor those stories by leaving the scars visible and embracing the beauty surrounding them.

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