by Carla Killough McClafferty based on Exodus 35:30-36:2; 37:1-9

Ping. Ping. Ping. The rhythm of the hammer rang through the air as my father, Bezalel, covered the acacia wood chest with gold both inside and out.

“Measure the ark again, Ethan,” he said. “I want to make sure it's exactly right.”

“It's 45 inches long, 27 inches wide and 27 inches high,” I called out.

“Good, just as God instructed. Tomorrow we start on the lid of the ark of the covenant — the mercy seat of God.” My father straightened his tools in preparation for the next day's work.

As I helped him, I worked up the courage to ask a question that had been bothering me.

“Did God tell Moses that the mercy seat should have two cherubim?” I asked.

“Yes, that is what God said.”

“But you don't know what a cherub looks like. How will you create something you've never seen before?”

“I'll just know,” Father replied.

“But how?” I asked again.

“I trust that the same God who led us across the dry ground of the Red Sea will guide my hands as I work for Him. From the moment God gave me the job of building the articles of worship for the tabernacle, I've felt His presence like never before. When the time comes, I'll know what to do. God never fails.”

As we walked to our tent, I realized I'd never seen my father this excited about his work. He'd been a goldsmith back in Egypt. The Pharaoh had often ordered him to make statues of Egyptian false gods. Some looked like crocodiles; others had human bodies with the heads of hawks or jackals.

I remembered my father saying, “It makes me sad to craft idols that can not see or hear prayers. The Egyptians don't know the living God of our people.”

“Do you believe God sent Moses to lead us to the land promised to our fathers?” I had asked.

“Yes, I do. Soon we will be free to use our talents for God.”

“But what if someone doesn't have a talent that God can use?” I asked. “Or what if they are afraid?”

“God has given each of us different strengths and abilities that we can give back to Him. It just takes some people longer than others to express their gifts.” My father patted me on the back and added, “My son, maybe one day you will feel free to sing the songs of praise that God has put in your heart.”

Since leaving Egypt, I had tried to sing praises to God for the manna He provided, the quail that fell from the sky and the water that poured from the rock. But every time I opened my mouth, the other kids would tease me. Other times I felt my words didn't express the power of God.

My thoughts quickly snapped back to the present as I smelled the meal my mother had prepared.

The next morning my father picked up his tools and began work on the mercy seat. First, he shaped the flat golden lid to fit the ark. Then he started fashioning gold into the cherubim.

“God told Moses the faces and wings of the cherubim should face toward each other,” Father said.

I had assisted my father before, but this time it was as if God directed his hands.

Tap, tap, tap. I was mesmerized by the beat as my father pounded on the soft gold. The sound filled my mind with the words of a song: The Lord God Almighty is worthy of praise. More words took shape in my mind as my father shaped the outstretched wings of each cherub high over the mercy seat.

“Now for their faces,” he said.

He looked peaceful and confident. The Lord had chosen my father for this work and filled him with the skill and knowledge to complete the task.

When Father finished the mercy seat, he stepped back and said, “Take a look.”

The faces of the cherubim were turned down toward the cover. Their delicate expressions seemed to be filled with the awe and wonder of God. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

“Does it need anything else?” Father asked.

“It's perfect,” I whispered.

Then from somewhere deep inside me, I came to a decision. The reasons I'd had for keeping my songs to myself didn't matter anymore. God had given me the ability to sing His praises, and I wanted to use that gift for Him.

“The Lord God Almighty is worthy of praise. . . .” I started to sing as my father wrapped an arm around me.

	Q: What dessert do birds like best? A: Chocolate “chirp” cookies. Rawlin K., 11, Louisiana Clubhouse Jr. Click here to subscribe