My Heart of Stone
A little rock, basically in the shape of a heart, was my “take away” gift from our church ladies’ retreat this fall. For several years now, I’ve been catching posts and photos by friends who collect heart-shaped rocks and are always on the lookout for anything shaped like a heart. It is the international symbol of love, ya know…
I’ve never been motivated to collect rocks.
Over time I’ve collected recipes, fabric, and yarn.
But upon reflection, my greatest desire is to collect hearts of friends.
Just before one of the sessions at our retreat we all walked in and found a stone heart waiting on each seat. My first reaction (just like a child looking at a plate of cookies) was to choose the “best” one and sit there, or to trade out for the stone I like best and wanted. But, I put on my mature, big-girl panties and sat in the seat I’d planned on occupying.
Here’s the rock that was waiting for me, and if I may take liberty in saying, was planned for me.
It’s not the one I would have chosen.
I didn’t like it.
It’s misshapen.
It’s not symmetrical.
It resembles a heart, but not how I want it to look.
It isn’t pretty.
These were my initial, inner responses, but I told myself, “It’s just a rock to be used for an object lesson. I don’t have to keep it.”
Guess what? You’ll be so surprised… God has already taught me lessons because of this small piece of stone.
During our time of worship that session, God gave me the eyes to see my rock as something bigger—something He would use to encourage me. I clutched it between my hands as I sang and I imagined that rock as my heart of flesh—me—encased in the hands of Almighty God; created, protected, and cherished—just as I am.
I carried that little heart-rock in my pocket all day, put it beside my bed over night, and took it with me to my devotional spot the next morning. And early that morning I took a closer look, hoping I’d admire my heart more than I had the night before.
Guess what…again? I do.
God showed me how this little stone oddly resembles me:
–It is smooth and polished to the touch because of years of wear and tear. His Living Water has worn away countless rough spots.
–It is kind of flat on one side, where I’d rather it were a little more rounded.
–It is a little more rounded on the other side, where I’d rather it be less “fluffy.”
–It has broken spots on the back side (the private side) that have been smoothed over as if the damage had been done in the past.
A piece of stone takes on the temperature of its environment. My heart of flesh is no different.
A stone isn’t alive. I don’t have real life, unless I’m resting in the hands of God. And there I am consistently warm, taking on the temperature of the hands holding me–those of my Heavenly Father.
My heart is part of His collection.
GOD IS GOOD, ALL THE TIME!
