What a book title? I am a Rock. It was one of the first beginner readers in a K-5 series. It was an entire book that repeated itself about being “just a rock” I do not move… I am a rock…I am …. blah blah .. I am a rock. You get the picture. Honestly, I thought it was the most annoying book. There was no story, just a picture of that lifeless rock.

The more I learned about a rock? The more I contemplated what it would be like to be one, metaphorically anyway. They are normally “hard”  and “naturally” formed. They do not move, feel, or speak. They are just a rock.

Strangely enough, it sometimes appeals to me. I am wise enough to know that I was not created to be one, but fashioned into something more. I know that I will not accomplish anything greater by being a rock. I have to endure the painful process of crushing and polishing. It’s a process that I don’t enjoy… (can I just skip to the polishing part?) I already know the answer to that one.

Maybe this is my underlying passion to collect beach stones and shells? They are already smoothed by the rough tumbling of the stormy sea. I only notice the finished masterpiece, unaware of the journey it took to get there.

Inwardly, I want to maintain the status of a rock, I don’t want to be broken, or crushed. I want to remain like a lump of the coal my daddy would mine throughout my childhood, but I know all too well the process of blasting through the slate, keeping only the useful parts. I’m sure the diamond gem would have survived being un-mined, but it would have only served a selfish purpose, forever unaware of its potential to shine.

Each day I have the conscious choice of being a rock. Some days it serves a temporary purpose, but most days I am forced to come out from under it. It’s easy being a rock, but not as rewarding as sharing your gemstones.

Psalms 26:2 Examine me, O LORD, and prove me; try my reins and my heart.