Violin makers prefer wood cut from old growth trees, grown at high altitudes on northern slopes. The wood must be cut during the cold dormant months and stored (seasoned) in controlled conditions for several years. Most of the wood used in violin making is split or cut "on the quarter" for greatest strength.
Immediately after the tree is felled, the trunk is bucked into rounds (cut up into cylindrically shaped lengths) only slightly longer than that needed for the finished pieces. Like slicing a pie, these rounds are split or sawn radially into wedge shaped pieces called billets. The billets are sealed on their ends with hot glue, stacked in such a manner that air can circulate all around them, and stored in a cool area away from direct sunlight.
Each piece of wood dries throughout at an equally slow rate. The drying or seasoning time for a piece of violin wood is generally ten years or more, depending on its size and thickness. Fifty year old wood is even better! Kiln drying of commercial lumber destroys the cell structure of the wood and thus its physical and acoustic properties. - www.gussetviolins.com
Did you catch that? It takes decades for wood to be ready to be used to make a violin. It must be aged and tempered. From what I've read elsewhere, trees that have endured extreme abuse from the environment often make some of the best violins because they have grown strong and do not easily break under pressure. How interesting!
Some days I feel like that wood. Growing older day after day. Waking up each morning with new aches and pains. . . and I'm only 35! Not only that, but I, too, know what it's like to wait for something more. I want to be used, and in some ways, I know I'm being used by the Lord now. But I feel there's so much more potential within me that is trapped by circumstances beyond my control. I want to do more, to be more, but I don't have the time, the money, the energy, the influence, the means, and so on. And so I wait, longing to be used to my full potential and simultaneously fearing the tempering that must be applied to make me usable.
But like the trees, I can be assured that one day I will reach my goal. One day, I will be ready for God to take me and mold me into something that makes beautiful music for Him. One day, I will be made into an exquisite instrument that brings no glory to itself but to the One who brings out the most beautiful music from within me. And on that day, I will look back at all the waiting and tempering and say, "It was worth it!"