Children are a gift from the Lord; the fruit of the womb, a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children born in one's youth. Blessed are they whose quivers are full. They will never be shamed contending with foes at the gate. ~Psalm 127:3-5

Thursday, May 29, 2008

The Rock

Some people live their lives and what you see is what you get. There are no hidden meanings to things they say, there are no deeper feelings than the ones they share.

But she is not like this. She is different.


These other people will take a rock from a garden, a little bit dirty but otherwise ordinary. And to them, it is just a rock. Rigid and gray, small in size, a little bit fragile in places from years of wear. But she will take the rock and expose its truth, painting over it with splashes of gold in her mind, hues of deep umber and burnt sienna and she will say it's a metaphor... The rock means something deeper. Like in the bible or some great poem. And she will say, " Can't you see it? Do you know what it is?" And of course they have no idea what she's talking about.

There are layers upon layers to unfold, many pieces and aspects of the rock yet to be discovered. And it probably has many jobs like protecting little ants from rain and holding down weaker objects in the wind. It may look like a rock, its lines forming the shape a rock would be. But there is a deeper feel to it and it's heavy despite its size.. It doesn't always bounce when it falls, although sometimes it will surprise them and find its way bouncing right back up in the air again, resilient and strong like rocks sometimes are.

"All things have a purpose for God," she will say "even this rock...and you might not always see that purpose for what it truly is."

And maybe some will begin to see her view of the rock, what it is, if they're close enough to it...if they can touch it with out damaging it. Yet for the rest, in their mind, it is still a rock, dirty and ordinary, gray and small. They assume that it has nothing else to offer.

And so the rock will be placed back in the garden, passed by with out a second glance. And still she will say "Can't you see me? Do you know who I am?"

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