The other night I took a walk down our street. It was dusk and the light was a soft orangey-pink. The streetlights had just come on and were flickering hypnotically. A cool breeze was blowing westward from the ocean and stirring up that distinctly south Florida winter smell…an odd combination of the salty sea and dried leaves on the ground that is delicious in the cold air. I was thinking about the verse in Luke where Jesus says to Martha, “You are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed…” Lately I’ve felt like the cares of life are crushing me and I seem to forget about the one thing. I am like a wave tossed about when I focus on the worries of my life instead sitting at his feet. I’m always focused on the “how” of things, namely “how do I do this perfectly? What are the rules?” It’s much easier to give myself a rule to follow than to humble myself before God. It’s easier to make a rule than to sacrifice my pride and say “I’m helpless, I can’t do this alone.” As soon as I lose sight of the ‘Who’ things become very muddled. If I have a rule than I have something concrete I can grasp. Then I can rely on myself and I don’t need God.
I thought of all these things as I walked along. The night before had been spent taking care of a very sick child, our financial woes seem to bury us often times, and sometimes I think “God where are you in the middle of all this?” It’s only when I look to him, truly look to him and not at myself and not at all the problems that I see he’s been there all along. Not some invisible stranger in a remote cabin somewhere like the mysterious Jacob on Lost, but he’s in everything I do. In him I live and move and have my being. My every breath is ordained by him. And yet I’m constantly trying to find something to comfort me. Some pretty, shiny thing that will take the pain of life away and make me feel better in that moment. I always go back to the idols and they always leave me empty.
Midway through my walk I spotted a pretty, perfectly round white stone on the sidewalk. I’m always collecting pretty rocks and shells but this one was special. I picked it up and put it in the pocket of my cardigan. I kept grabbing it throughout the walk as a reminder of the anchor I have. When all the cares of life threaten to crush me, when my sorrows and worries seem to be more than I can bear, when people I love are hurting there is the anchor. I grabbed the smooth rock tight again and again. A reminder that only one thing is needed.
Laura,
When we go to the ocean I usually try to find a simple smooth stone to put in my pocket. Sometimes I will carry it with me for months. It is comforting to reach in my pocket and feel that stone and know that it was shaped and smoothed by the pounding waves of the ocean.