Wisdom and a Rock
It seems the weather has been particularly wild all over the world. Last week many of our friends in the Carolinas were dealing with a hurricane. Today we got the remnants—torrential downpours and fierce thunder and lightning. Ours only lasted a day. Theirs lasted days, and many are still under water. In other places all over the world people are still picking up pieces after storms, with homes destroyed and streets flooded. Homes on sand near the oceans have little hope of standing.
For as long as I can remember, Wyndham, when he could still speak well and pray out loud would continually thank God for being his rock. He always used this term. I don’t think I appreciated this metaphor nearly as much then as I do now.
Most weeks, when weather allowed, we would walk and pray at our special place about forty minutes from our home, in a town called Manchester-by-the-Sea. We would walk a trail leading to a place so beautiful it seemed unreal. There we would find an expanse which revealed a panoramic view of the rocky north Atlantic shore. As we neared the end of the trail, approaching this gorgeous view, we always passed a gigantic marble rock. It has likely been there for centuries, on this hill overlooking the ocean. It’s solid and has withstood years of crashing waves and howling nor’easters.
I always admired the rock and thought it was such a great addition to an already priceless view. It provided even more ambiance. However, I never had to hold on to it for dear life. Now, as the winds and waves of deteriorating health howl, Wyndham’s true rock (and my rock) means everything. It’s no longer just admired, it’s sat on, clung to, and is essential. But, that’s the way it should be anyway.
Because our rock is the unchanging, all-powerful, and loving God who has been a friend for many years, Wyndham’s faith, joy, and peace is unshakable. He has the wisdom to hold to the rock, to sit on the rock, to hug the rock, and to never leave the rock. He can even laugh when his voice can’t easily be understood (even though it’s hard) and can have patience and perseverance even while living an extremely difficult way of life. Without this rock, we would surely have been swept away, torn apart by the waves.
Because the rock is solid, and he has the wisdom to hold on, he is okay. We are okay. We are better than okay. Very blessed. Sometimes sad, but secure in hope. The view from the rock is always spectacular, even in a storm. Perhaps especially during a storm.
Everyone needs this rock, for it can withstand any storm. It’s not meant to merely be viewed but is meant to be embraced.
Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer.
From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe.
I long to dwell in your tent forever and take refuge in the shelter of your wings. (Psalm 61:1-4)
I believe that Jesus held to that rock while he was on earth, as he referred to this song while on the cross.
Turn your ear to me, come quickly to my rescue; be my rock of refuge, a strong fortress to save me.
Since you are my rock and my fortress, for the sake of your name lead and guide me.
Keep me free from the trap that is set for me, for you are my refuge.
Into your hands I commit my spirit; deliver me, LORD, my faithful God. (Psalm 31:2-5)