It was delivered last week. Two tons of river rock. The “rock guy” dumped it in our front yard to the left of the driveway, a mountain of tiny smooth stones. Every time I stepped out the front door, the big pile of rocks was staring back at me. All weekend, I avoided making eye contact. My time was coming, but I didn’t want to dwell on it. Not yet.
Well, this morning was my date with those stones. While there was still significant shade and temperatures were low, I got on my boots and gloves, grabbed the shovel and moved the wheelbarrow into place. It was time to transport the rocks to the backyard. Specifically : uphill, to the site of the workshop, which we are preparing to build.
You may not know, but, my husband had a procedure on his hand a few days ago, and so in order to not interfere with healing, the mountain moving work fell directly onto my shoulders. With lumber being ordered recently, and hopefully delivered shortly after we return from the beach, it became clear that the vapor barrier and layer of stones needed to be put in place this week. And I was the one to do it.
It went like this: shovel stones into wheel barrow. push wheel barrow up the hill to the backyard. empty wheel barrow and spread stones. repeat. again and again and again. Many cups of water and lots of sweat later I succumbed to my earthly body and gave up for the morning, with plans to continue the work in the cool of the morning, tomorrow. I felt pretty good about the effort, but realized my inadequacy when I looked out the back window : I didn’t even finish half of the job.
While I was hard at work first thing this morning, I thought about other mountains that had been moved in my life, mountains that were moved on my behalf. I’m a hard worker in the best of senses, but even I know that there have been times when I was powerless to make things happen. Only God could….
There was the mountain that moved when I moved to Tennessee, with a tiny amount of savings and only a very small part time job, and no place to live, that He provided for me. Then there was the time that I was able to purchase my piano, which I never thought I would be able to do. And I can’t forget the moment when I realized I was working my last full time day in the corporate world; I was going home full time to be with my children because the need for that income, which had been a huge mountain, was eliminated. And there are so many, many more accounts of mountains moved.
All of these memories kept me moving, up and down the hill, shoveling, one more time. You see, this whole building a guitar workshop project sometimes feels very daunting. Not just the building process of the shop, but the making guitars business that will follow. I really have no idea how it is all going to work out and a lot of days it seems like a HUMONGOUS mountain that is immovable and impassable. But, as I relived those memories of how God has already moved really big barriers on my behalf over and over again, the wheel barrow wasn’t quite so heavy, the backyard didn’t seem so steep and the work began to pass by quickly…
These words mean something entirely different to me this evening, as I examine the future…
from Matthew 17:20:
for assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.
Heavenly Father, You have always been my mountain mover. When I’ve thought there was no way, you have made the way plain, removed obstacles, taken down barriers. Restore the belief in my heart for what is ahead. Give me the faith to keep moving in the right direction. amen.
daily portion 