He stood at his workbench crafting a most intricate piece of furniture. Being a master craftsman he didn't much go for store-bought parts. He made his own. Springs, lumber, brads and nails, buttons and cloth, plastic and hardware.....you name it, he made it.
In the beginning he made a couch. Because he was a furniture artist he built the perfect seat of luxury. Finest oak was cut, trimmed, and shaved. Next it was covered with perfect padding and eloquent velvet. The finished product was stunning in both simplicity as well as intricacy.
And then something went wrong. Some sort of virus attacked the very core of the sofa. Its stability began to weaken and its color started to fade. Something radical had to be done for this expert craftsman had never constructed anything with flaw.
The only thing he could do which would reverse the damage done would be to become one of his created parts and apologize to the whole for the error. He sent himself to the couch in the form of a staple. The other staples, nails, and even glue regarded him as just another one of them. But this staple was different. He carried a message of hope of recovering the couch once built without blemish.
Who could believe such an amazing message? Could there really be a carpenter who worked from such a heart that we would transfer himself from behind the hammer to become the hammered? And this creator would apologize to the created for the flaw that wasn't his?
Is this a most impossible story of rescue and recovery? The master would recover the sofa? It would become so new it would live on as if never flawed? Is this not the perfect carpenter?
What a story! What a God! What more could He do? Nothing. He did it!