The other day I was reading about a beach off the coast of California where people flock there to pick out rocks. These aren’t just any rocks, they are smooth and polished rocks that have been continuously pounded by the waves of the Pacific sea. The white surf has tossed, rubbed and knocked these rocks against each other. For days on end they are tumbled until they no longer have rough edges. People come from all over to pick up these stones and take to display them in their homes.
As I approach a birthday, I stop to reflect and have seen that my years have been like the waves crashing on the rocks of this beach.
Huge waves have overcome me at times
Saltwater has penetrated the wounds of my life
I have been trapped in a merciless cradle of rough circumstances
Other rocks have rubbed against my sharp edges
Like the smooth rocks I too have become polished through the years. Rubbing down my human side until you see more of my God-given spirit. I am not yet a perfect stone and I certainly would not be chosen among other stones for a collection, but I am smoother than a rock in a quiet cove. In the quiet cove where the sea is calm and peaceful. Where there are no crashing waves disturbing the placement of the rocks, no uprooting, only calm waters, and peaceful days. No one wants these rocks because they are not lovely, no one displays rocks with rough, unpolished edges on their mantles. True beauty comes from going through the fires of life. The rocks in the cove have been left alone and have been placed in a peaceful place. They have not been disturbed, moved or shaken from their original existence. They still look like they did when they were first formed. Imagine if we still looked and acted the same as we did when we were first formed.
I have collected rocks from my travels for years. I pick up rocks along the way and sometimes write the name of the place where it was found to remind me of my experience. This particular rock was found while on a mission trip after a tumultuous time in my life. I was being refined, renewed and restored on this trip. The clipped parts of my life were healing and at the same time I was helping others heal as well. The rock is a memento of that time in my life.
I am so thankful that I have been shaken, moved, displaced, and have passed through the grindings of this life. I have been knocked around by other rocks, pieces have been chipped off of me, never to be seen again. I have continued on my journey to wholeness, and I am smoother than rough now.
If you have been through a polishing time, please share below. Even one or two words describing your experience, would brighten my day.