The Rock

"To You, O Lord, I call, my Rock..."
(Psalm 28:1)

Doorway original to the 150 year old steading

I have ALWAYS loved rocks.  The source of this fascination remains somewhat of a mystery, although I suspect it has something to do with long walks on the Westport beaches with my grandmother, who always had her eyes open for an agate or a 'moonstone.'  My poor mother spent hours sewing tiny, exquisite clothes for my dolls (in hopes I would play with them) while I sat in the ditch in front of our rambler on 142nd and Duryea Lane.  With a nice flat rock on the bottom and another in hand, I filled the hours cracking open smaller specimens, secretly hoping to discover something beautiful inside.   The years have done nothing to temper this strange, primal passion.  Even today I am literally surrounded by rocks!  This is a photo of the doorway leading from our kitchen to the main entryway. 

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Just to the right of my laptop, here on the desk, is a small, newer collection.  It includes triangular rocks, which have intrigued me lately, and a few pieces of sand-worn glass. 

Henry learned years ago that a trip to the beach triggers a kind of  metamorphosis, in me, bringing the latent geologist (or paleontologist)  inside springing to life.  Nose to the ground like a bloodhound, the search is on when my feet hit the sand. Through the years my  collection has grown, and Henry was kind enough to purchase a coffee table to display my treasures!  (Note the flagstone floor :)

Triangles...my latest obsession

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Rocks and fossils...an unlikely treasure trove!

Several days ago I took Maggie for a late afternoon walk on the beach...along with the brilliant new ball-flinger-toy that Henry ordered a few weeks ago.  When her friend Archie (a black and white Springer-Poodle mix) arrived on the scene, she dropped the ball and ran to greet him.  I found myself wandering out as the tide receded, to retrieve the ball.  I stood for a moment, watching the friends frolic.  I can't explain what happened next, except that I had a strange sense the ground was shifting.  As I looked down, the sand beneath my feet began to liquefy...although it had appeared solid, it was nothing but a gritty, jellied mass!  Quicksand?  I quickly moved toward solid ground.

The  image of that shifting sand has been like a pebble in my shoe.  It brings to mind Jesus' parable about the Wise and Foolish Builders.  The Wise Man builds his house upon the Rock.  What does it mean to 'build my house upon the rock?' This morning I decided to take another look at Jesus' words in Luke 6:46-49:

"Why do you call me 'Lord, Lord,' and not do what I tell you? 
Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them,
I will show you what he is like:  He is like a man building a house,
who dug deep and laid the foundation on the Rock.  And when a flood arose,
the stream broke against that house and could not shake it, because it was well built. 
But the one who hears (my words) and does not do them
is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. 
When the stream broke against it, immediately it fell,
and the ruin of the house was great."

To be honest, this frightens and challenges me.  It is so easy for me to say, 'Lord, Lord,' all the while living as though I am my own master...leaning on my own understanding, and directing my own path!   There is a horrifying, true story about a man who once lived right here on the farm at Halley (after which our home is named):

It was 1830.  George Delday, a tenant on Halley farm in Deerness, hitched up his horse and cart for a trip into Kirkwall.  His oldest son John was embarking on a voyage to the Davis Straits.  George wanted to see him off.  Being 'fond of a drink', George stopped for a 'wee dram' before making the trip back to Deerness that night.  On the way home he took his usual route across Sandi Sand, but presumably fell asleep, leaving the horse to find its way home. While George was sleeping, the poor horse strayed too far out and horse, cart and man disappeared into The Mallack, a quicksand at the edge of Peter's Pool.

There is a lesson here for me.  I think the dangers are two-fold.  First, there are times when 'the Way,' (the Christian life) becomes far too familiar.  Let's face it, it's HARD WORK digging down to the Rock!  It's much easier to stay on the surface, living on autopilot, neglecting and even selectively rejecting the Word of Life.  The next flood then destroys my flimsy foundation and  I am left floating downstream like a dead fish. 

Second, it is entirely possible to busy myself doing all kinds of things 'in His Name' that have nothing to do with His will for me.  In Matthew's Gospel, Jesus is recorded as saying:
'Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven."

To those who claimed all kinds of 'mighty works' in His name, Jesus declares:
"I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness!"

When Jesus says, "Follow me," He means just that.  He has shown us the way...He IS the Way...yet He warns that few will find it.  If there was ever a time to get serious about building a firm foundation, the time is NOW.  It's time to 'dig deep.' 

Lord, I invite you to rouse me from my slumber.  Sift out the chaff in my life, and point me to the Father's will.  Help me build my house on The Rock.