arable of the ilversmith

I have a most unusual necklace. It's made of sterling silver.(not unusual) I made it myself. (not common, but unremarkable) It was carefully planned and lovingly executed. Between hammer and anvil, I forged a smooth arc of angular silver wire.

Forging is a process whereby metal is given shape. For swordblades and silver necklaces, the process is the same. Carefully administered hammerstrikes are used to push, direct and guide the metal, causing it to take on the desired shape. But there is more to it than that. If you
were to simply pound away, regardless of skill and care taken, it would not be long before you held dead, broken shards in your hands. Shaping metal in this way causes it to become quite brittle. The process of annealing is the necessary companion of forging.

Annealing is simple. Using a torch, heat your work-in-progress until it glows red and then quench it in cold water. (At one time, Spanish blades, forged in Toledo were renowned as the best in the world. The secret of their success was this...after the last, defining tap of the hammer, the blade was once more heated to glowing red and then quenched, not in water, but in blood. Plunged into the heart of a sacrificial slave.) This process softens the metal, making it possible to continue the work of forging to its completion. It is from this cycle of the hammer and anvil/the fire and the water...shaping/softening over and over again until perfection is obtained, that great flexibility and tensile strength is imparted to the metal, the work-in-progress.

If you're like me, you have been between hammer and anvil...Pain. And you've been in the fire...More pain. And you've definitely been quenched in the Blood of the Sacrifice...His pain. Some days the only comfort is knowing that the painful cycle of shaping and softening is His means of bringing us, the works-in-progress, to perfection...a synthesis of great strength and awesome beauty.

Using a hand drawn paper pattern and the finest jewelers' saw I could find, I cut and detailed abstract lotus blossoms from a sheet of silver, and soldered them to either end of tbe forged wire. The final step of creation was to polish it, using several rouge compounds and a jewelers' high speed buffing machine. I looked with mounting wonder, appreciation, and pride as the very nearly finished work took on a life and beauty of its own in my hands, before my eyes....and then the disaster...The heartless buffer, spinning at speeds in excess of 10,000 RPM, ripped my very nearly newborn creation from my loving hands...and mangled it into
something resembling a trainwreck. Twisted, broken, stillborn jewelry.

Cursing, raging, grieving under my breath, I interred the remains in a drawer and left, seeking comfort, bitter laughter, or oblivion. Eventually, I had to return and again open the drawer. What met my eyes was...potential. Twisted but filled with new direction and possibility. Again, the hammer and the anvil. New solder for the broken wire. A second, much more wary session with the buffer. At last, creation completed. And I, the creator, saw that it was very good, and I rested.

  Truth is, the necklace that rose from the wreckage turned out to be far more striking,   possessed of deeper beauty than the one that died. The glories and process of restoration are   much the same for both metal masterpieces in the hands of the artisan and human   masterpieces in the Hands of the Creator. Restoration is not about getting back something
  that you have lost. Rather, it is a long, intricate process of becoming far more than you could   have ever been. You will find that the greatest beauty and depth of character is not produced   inspite of your flaws, imperfections, and injuries, but rather, they ARE the direct result of
  your flaws, imperfections, and injuries. These things are the raw materials that the Master   uses to shape His finest, most exquisite works. Destruction and creation go hand in hand.   Beauty from ashes. The achingly gorgeous work of restoration.