The Rocks Still Wait
by Jan Ackerson 9/25/2006 / Holidays
We are pebbles and stones, rocks and boulders, and we are barely aware—not really conscious at all in the way that creatures with blood in their veins are conscious. The pulse of life is too rapid for us. A child is born…he cries…an old man gasps his last breath a few fleeting moments later--what are those paltry seconds to a rock? Centuries pass, and we watch them dimly, measuring time by our own reshaping, worn down by the gradual forces of wind and water.
But on that day, we were ready to sing.
We sprang to awareness with the sound of a donkey’s hooves. Fully conscious after centuries of slumber, we knew that we were in the presence of the Creator. Listening, silently observing, we waited as He and his company made their way down the path. No one paid us any mind—who heeds a stone except to kick it off the path? The donkey stepped carefully, though, and many of us felt an unfamiliar coolness as we were bedecked with branches of palms. Hosanna, sang the people thronging the Creator. Hosanna!
The song filled the air, resonated in our veins—bloodless veins of quartz and silica. We longed to voice our own hosannas. We were ready—eager—to sing.
From the crowd a voice, granite-hard, interrupted the song. Make them stop this ridiculous singing! But the Creator’s reply was as smooth as talc: If I silence my people, these stones will sing to me.
Oh, how we longed to sing!
The Creator rode by, still accompanied by songs of praise which slowly faded into eternity. On that day, He did not need the rocks to cry out.
So now we wait until His return, when we will sing the song that we learned as He passed by. We are rocks, and the song is part of us now. We do not easily release our grasp. The passage of time means little to us; we wait to sing the song.
Hosanna!
Jan is a Christian who has traveled through sorrow and depression, and has found victory and grace. She dedicates all writings to her Heavenly Father. Check out Jan's website at www.1hundred-words.com
Copywrite Jan Ackerson--2006
