July 22, 2019
The rocks remain. A stroll along our creek this evening got me to thinking. The flow of the creek is pretty predictable, with the same eddies in the same places, the narrowing of the stream as it bounds around the bend, deep pools and shallow riffles. If I look again tomorrow, it will look the same. It will be different water, but the same patterns. Until another storm comes along, it won’t change much. Even with a storm, the underlying shale bedrock will be in the same place next year. The gravel beds will have shifted, but they’ll still be there.
The DEC says it’s illegal for me to take any gravel from the creek. I have to let it wash downstream to the commercial site where I can pay for the gravel that was in the bend behind my house last year. It doesn’t have to make sense; it’s the law.
Life is a lot like that creek. We move along through time, experiencing new people, places, and things. Others will bump and glide over the same rocks as we. Storms of war, economics, politics, and religion will shift the gravel of human society this way and that, but the bedrock of Christ remains, unchanging, and solid. I am grateful tonight for this assurance. We cannot trust in human systems, we can’t always rely on others; often we are so fickle and weak that can’t even trust ourselves. Like the shale beneath our creek, the Rock Jesus Christ remains.
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