Hey friend,
This week, my friend Luis sent me a song called Carpenter Boy by Caleb King.
And honestly, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
The song paints this beautiful picture of Jesus, not just as the Savior on the cross, but as the Carpenter from Bethlehem. The One who grew up with wood in His hands. The One who knew the sound of tools, the weight of timber, the sting of splinters, and the patience it takes to build something.
And then, years later, those same hands would be stretched out on a wooden cross.
The Carpenter would be crucified on the very material He created.
That thought has stayed with me.
Because the cross was not a tragic accident. It was not plan B. It was not Heaven scrambling to fix what earth had broken.
The cross was the place where the love of God was revealed most clearly.
Jesus, the Son of God, came near to us. He stepped into our world. He took on skin, sweat, sorrow, temptation, hunger, grief, betrayal, and pain. He lived the life we could not live and died the death we deserved to die.
And He did it willingly.
1. Jesus entered the work
There’s something powerful about remembering that Jesus was a carpenter.
Before He carried the cross, He likely carried beams.
Before nails pierced His hands, His hands likely held nails.
Before He was lifted up on a tree, He spent years working with wood.
Jesus did not float above ordinary life. He entered it.
He knew what it was to work. He knew what it was to be tired. He knew what it was to live in obscurity, to be overlooked, to be misunderstood, and to keep showing up faithfully anyway.
That matters.
Because sometimes we imagine God as distant from the details of our lives. We know He cares about “spiritual” things, but we wonder if He really cares about the ordinary things - our work, our grief, our family, our bills, our decisions, our weariness, our waiting.
But Jesus shows us that God is not afraid of ordinary.
He meets us there.
The carpenter shop matters. The hidden years matter. The faithful days that no one applauds still matter.
Jesus was faithful before the crowds, before the miracles, before the cross.
And maybe that’s a word for us: faithfulness in hidden places is still faithfulness.
2. Jesus carried the weight
The song asks a haunting question: when Jesus hung on the cross, did the smell of wood remind Him of home?
I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know this: Jesus was not surprised by the cross.
He knew why He came.
John 1 tells us that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” Philippians 2 tells us that Jesus humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
The King stepped down.
The Creator entered creation.
The Carpenter carried the cross.
And He didn’t just carry a piece of wood.
He carried our sin.
He carried our shame.
He carried our separation.
He carried the weight we could never lift on our own.
That is the heart of the Gospel.
We do not make ourselves whole. Jesus makes us whole.
We do not climb our way back to God. Jesus came down to us.
We do not earn our place in the family. Jesus made the way through His finished work on the cross.
So when life feels heavy, when grief feels close, when faith feels fragile, when you’re tired from carrying what you were never meant to carry alone — behold Him.
Look again at Jesus.
Not as a religious idea.
Not as a distant figure.
Not as a backup plan.
Behold the One who put your cross upon His shoulders.
3. Jesus is still building
One of my favorite images in the song is this idea that the Carpenter is building us a home.
That line immediately makes me think of John 14, where Jesus says:
“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms... I go to prepare a place for you.”
That is not just poetic language. That is promise language.
Jesus did not only die to forgive us. He rose again to bring us home.
And I need that reminder.
Especially in seasons where life feels temporary. When loss is real. When grief lingers. When the world feels broken. When our bodies fail. When relationships hurt. When the future feels uncertain.
This is not all there is.
The Carpenter is building us a home.
And until that day comes, He is also building something in us.
He is shaping our hearts.
He is forming our faith.
He is teaching us to trust.
He is making us more like Him.
Sometimes that building process feels slow. Sometimes it feels painful. Sometimes it feels hidden. But the Carpenter knows what He is doing.
He does not waste wood.
He does not waste wounds.
He does not waste waiting.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross!
Philippians 2:8 (NIV)
Weekly Resources
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Carpenter Boy
Caleb King
This song. Man oh man! Take a listen.
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Better Than The Drift
Better | Week 1
As we kick off our new series through the book of Hebrews, we’re reminded of one powerful truth: Jesus is better. He is not just another messenger from God - He is the way, the truth, and the life.
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Browns players baptized, challenged to ‘point other people to Jesus’ at ‘Cleveland for Christ’
Sports Spectrum - sportsspectrum.com
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So today, wherever you are, behold Him.
Behold the Carpenter Boy of Bethlehem.
Behold the perfect Lamb.
Behold the Savior who died upon a tree He created.
Behold the risen King who is making all things new.
And remember this:
The One who carried the cross is still carrying you.
The One who conquered the grave is still preparing a place for you.
The One who began the good work will be faithful to complete it.
The Carpenter is building us a home.
Praying,
Ryan
