Lessons Learned By Building a Split-Rail Fence
Several Saturdays ago, Bill and I rolled up our sleeves to begin the construction of a split-rail fence.
After a large oak fell on our gate in late July, we had the remaining trees lining our Stevens Creek property assessed, to determine their longevity.
Sadly, it was discovered that many, too, were near death’s door—either plagued with blight or, due to the havoc caused by Hurricane Helene, suffered unstable root systems.
I grew teary as I witnessed tree after tree being felled, the naked nature of our once tree-lined rural White Oak road unsettling.
I suppose it was multifaceted—
The nostalgia of having watched those trees grow over the years, from 2001 to the present.
Recalling their colors come autumn, the birds and squirrels who made their homes in their branches, among their leaves.
The knowledge that much of their injury leading to their demise was the result of that which happened almost one year ago. Hurricane Helene came sweeping through on September 29, causing calamity to White Oak, though was so much worse in other areas, the results of which are still obvious all around our Western North Carolina communities.
The trees down, the only thing left to do was decide what, if anything, to plant or erect in their place. That’s when we settled on a fence.
“We can plant flowers and shrubs along it,” I suggested. “Landscaping wasn’t our goal this year, but we can focus on it in 2026.”
Bill agreed, then began researching various types of fencing. That’s when a patient of his happened to mention having an abundance of already-split yellow locust.
Coincidence? (I don’t think so.)
“If you want some, I’d be happy to give you a discount.”
That settled it. It would be a split-rail fence for us. Furthermore, we would do the work. After all, we were already in the middle of having our house painted, our culvert repaired (another catastrophe, compliments of Helene), and our demolished gate replaced.
So on that Saturday, we spent five hours constructing a portion of the fence in the heat of a late summer afternoon.
And guess what!
I learned a thing or two—what I’ll call my “Lessons Learned from Yellow Locust.”
First…
Building our fence required teamwork. Together, Bill and I lifted the beams of split yellow locust, walking them to their assigned places, adjusting them just so.
Because my husband had done the research beforehand, Bill knew where and how to position them, what foundations were needed in particular places, and how to screw them together, adding to their security and, ultimately, their longevity.
My job? To assist. Besides helping him carry the wood, I handed him the necessary tools—screws, drill bits, ruler, and the like. Much like Bill’s surgical techs in the OR, I was his fence-building assistant, and my quick responses saved time and frustration.
Now, please don’t misunderstand. Those hours weren’t without their moments of angst or irritation. (It was hot, after all!) But working together on a joint project was not only productive, it was fun and marriage-building too—serving to strengthen our relationship while adding memories to our already chockfull treasure trove.
Reminds me of Ecclesiastes 4:9—
Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor.
Next…
Speaking of various tools for the task, this job required just the same—those implements already mentioned.
We needed pavers for the foundation in spots, a variety of screws in different sizes, and various drill bits.
Poem “Tools” by Bob Hostetler—in his new release 100 Prayers for Writers (linked).
So, too, in the Christian life. We need our “tools”—
God’s Word upon which we build—yes, our sure foundation.
Fellow believers—those who sharpen us for the journey, that Christian community for which we were designed, to both bless as well as receive blessing.
Other implements of the Christian faith—Bible studies and supplemental books that grow us, not to mention, our personal times of prayer and study where we spend time with God, both listening to and talking with Him.
Reminds me of Ephesians 2:10—
For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Third…
Sometimes wounds occur along the way—hardships of sorts, but God can teach us through it all, never wasting a suffering.
“What happened?” Bill’s face registered concern as he peered down at my shin and pointed.
Not knowing what he was talking about, I, too, darted my gaze downward. That’s when I saw it. A long, bloody gash on my leg. But how? I hadn’t even felt it, nor did it hurt.
“What in the world?” I stooped to get a closer look, then, “But it doesn’t ache at all. I’ll just clean it up. I’m fine.”
And that’s just what I did. And I was and I am.
Still, this served to remind me of Ecclesiastes 3:1, 3-4—
There is a time for everthing, and a season for every activity under the heavens… a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build.
After all, our constructing of the fence came after the devastation of Helene last September, the result of much death, with a dire need for deep healing.
And while trees had to be torn down in the storm’s wake, we were now building up something of beauty, which makes me think—this was a testament, too, of verse four—
…a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.
Yes!
Finally…
Friends are the best! And sometimes—often times—the best of friends have fur.
Even though they couldn’t really do anything to assist, our loyal pups Rocky and Prancer endured the heat of that Saturday afternoon just to stay close…
Yes, simply to offer moral support.
Reminds me of those wise words in Proverbs—
One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother (18:24).
Oh, that we would be that kind of friend!
Conclusion…
Bill and I aren’t finished with our split-rail fence. We’re not even halfway finished, truth be known. But we know this—
There are more lessons to learn from this yellow locust, if we’ll only listen. And each one, I pray, will further point us to the extraordinary character of our wonderful Creator as we live with eyes and ears wide open to see and hear Him in His created world…
And in His Word. Yes and…
Amen!
Father, thank You for teaching us in all life’s circumstances if we come to You like children, willing to learn. We love you, and we praise You! Amen.
*******
Friends, I’m taking a “Silent September” after the first week of this new month. We have some family matters that require prayer, and I feel the need to press in to Jesus and learn from Him. (He’s the best Comforter, Teacher, and Friend.) I won’t be posting any other blogs until October, though I’ll be sending out my “Windows and Wallflowers” September newsletter later this week, so be watching. It’ll be full of info, and perhaps a fun giveaway.
