Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Written By Rev. Philip Stonhouse

I don't know when I first started hating rocks. It might have been that I grew up in a valley of mountains and I always felt like they were imposing themselves on me, threatening to crush me. Or maybe it was the fact they would block the sun for so much of the morning and evening. Or maybe it was because I was a runner and I hated those gravel roads.

The one thing I can tell you though is that by the time I was old enough to think it, I disliked rocks. No cross that, now I despise rocks. 

Notice, I had said I loved running, past tense. I have stopped now. I had tripped one too many times over, you guessed it, rocks. They were always getting in the way. The final straw was one early morning, when I was already chilled by the cool dewy shaded mountain air, I was running up a hill in the centre of town. There was this one long slick piece of stone and I guess I wasn't watching because it was so slick that I slipped and slid down into a puddle. As I stewed wet and angry, I decided then and there that I was done with it. Done with rocks and in my mind, that meant done with running.

So I left them alone and for a time they left me alone. That is until yesterday. Yesterday, I was exploring one of these mountains with a few friends. We were just having fun exploring, joking, you name it. When suddenly, the ground fell out from under me and I found myself trapped in a crevice. A few rocks had knocked loose while and fell and lodged me in. 

My friends tried to get me out but they couldn't. One stayed with me, while the others went to get help. There I was trapped under and between rocks as if they were laughing at me. I could not avoid them and it seemed as if they were just waiting for their moment. So it was. An emergency crew showed up and so did some press. I quickly became the talk of town. Cross that, I quickly became the mock of town. 

Everyone has started calling me pebbles as if that was all that trapped me. Even many of my friends have seemed to abandon me and so now I stay inside. So now, I have decided to write this down so nothing will be lost. So you, whoever reads this will know my cause. You will know my case against these rocks. 

Guess what? The neighborhood kids have started to throw pebbles at my house. Actually, they started with pebbles, but as the days went on they kept growing. Today, they broke a window with a large rock; they ran away before I could see who it was. And still the mountains stand over me, watching, judging.

The thrown rocks quickly stopped, we talked to the parents in the neighborhood. Now, instead what they have started to do is leave rocks on my front step. Once again, they kept getting larger and larger until one day I hear a bunch of guys laughing as they ran away. I go to the door and I found this massive stone on my step. Honestly, it must have been the size of my bed. I don't know how they got it there, because it took everyone I knew to help me put it in the garden. 

I feel crushed, shattered, and overwhelmed. Rocks, they have consumed and demolished me. What is left of me?

Thankfully, it would seem that they have forgotten about me, everyone forgot about me, even the rocks. Every so often I hear a pebble thrown or find a rock on my step, but they have almost become nothing. Even the mountains seem to have turned their backs and don't hang over me. Now, I am left alone. Now I can rest.

I have to admit that sometimes I miss it. Where did it all go? What happened?

Today, I found a rock on my stoop. The first one in months. This one was different. It was smooth and polished and it had a note held to it with an elastic band. The note simply said, "You should run more". Who left this for me and why?

At first, I have to admit, I was resistant. I didn't want to listen to a rock, but eventually, I went and I have once again found my love for running. The strange thing is that I miss the gravel since the path has been paved. I have even found myself laughing at or I guess sometimes with that smooth rock that I once slipped on so long ago in what felt like a different life. 

An old friend showed up at the house. He didn't ring the doorbell though, he threw pebbles at my bedroom window. He's started to call me pebbles again, only from him it doesn't sound so bad. 

We started to explore the mountains and the more we do, the more they feel like home. Now, I look forward to my runs through them, whether alone or with him. 

These mountains look down on me now like a loving doting father. A protective guiding hand. Always there, unmovable and consistent. 

I have to tell you what happened today. I was running like normal, but as is my new habit I was exploring a new path. I was spending a long day off going up a mountain. I was sprinting up a hill when I tripped on this rock. I cannot express to you how thankful I am, how much I appreciate what this rock has done for me. It has saved me, literally. As I got up, I found myself angry and flustered like before, but as I looked up I saw what opened up before me. There was a sheer cliff. A drop by which if I had fallen I would have surely died. Just as I was finding so much joy my life would have been lost. Then as I looked out on this beautiful vista of rocky mountains, I saw the bountiful and sterdy life waiting for me that only a true rock could provide.

That same view that could have been my death has now become like a holy place to me. It is a reminder, a promise of what is waiting for me if I trust in this rock. It's funny to me now, since it is the same one I once despised.

You remember that rock that I once slipped on, the one at the top of the hill in the middle of the town. We have decided to build our house upon it. Now what I once hated will be the foundation for our new life.

Our new home is big and beautiful. There is more space than we would ever need. On top of the hill we get a view, but now from everywhere I go I can see it and it reminds me of the hope and love I have found. There's still the issue of bad roads and the hill to get up but we don't mind. It just reminds me of how far we have come. 

We are in the midst of a giant storm. The wind is so intense. Everything seems to be shaking. The rain is coming down in sheets and has been coming down now for hours. As it gets colder the rain has begun to freeze on our windows. They are warning everyone to stay inside. I keep hearing these crashes, which I can only assume are trees falling in the midst of this wind and freezing.

They are saying that had the mountains not stopped some of this storm it would have surely destroyed much of the town. I just heard something. Cars? Rocks? The doorbell . . .

For the last few hours or so there have been families and friends coming to our door. The trees falling have hit houses, the rain has caused massive flooding and the intense wind has even pushed down houses. Even the school, which was meant to be the city emergency shelter has been flooded. Our house firmly built on this rock and hill seems to be the best shelter in town. I am thankful for that as we put out yoga mats, bedrolls and sleeping bags in our living room, dining room, kitchen, basement, bedrooms, anywhere people can find space. We will see what the morning holds, but at least for now we are warm and safe.

The morning after brought with it a lot of sorrow and hardship. It was not easy for a lot of people, but the one thing that we keep hearing is how thankful everyone is for our home. I am so thankful for this rock I have built my life on.

They have started calling our home the rock. People constantly say what hope and joy it brings them whenever they look up at our house. Even those that didn't need it, or show up say how it brings them comfort. How did I end up here? How have I been so blessed? 

I read over what brought me here: the weird feelings and anger, the ups and downs. I couldn't be more thankful for this rock.

I guess I really don't mind if people call me pebbles.