Sometimes you have to mark the moment.

I never thought I’d find myself in a situation where I would be unpacking the boxes I found myself packing a few days before.  The by-product of a whirlwind “I’m moving/not moving” scenario that has unfolded in the last two weeks. It’s a good thing I was lazy and didn’t get too far, right? But nonetheless, I find myself unpacking and putting things back where they belong but also dreaming up new ways of looking at my living space and my collection of bits and pieces.

Somewhere in the mix are a couple of bags of stones that will eventually make their way back to a vase in my room.  One might wonder why I keep lugging around bags of rocks to each new home, but they are much more than just modern decoration.

These rocks are my altars.

Or as my Grandma P would say – my Ebenezers. And they are – literally that. I decided to follow the lead of my bro Abraham, collecting them as a way of marking conversations with the Lord.  Significant moments. Times of wrestling.  Many of them are specifically from a long season of unemployment I had just after graduating college, when I would walk down to the beach by my parents house and wrestle it all out before the Lord.  I said many things during those conversations with Him but they usually went a little like the lines so perfectly written by JJ Heller…

I am tryin’ to understand
how to walk this weary land
make straight the paths that crooked lie
Oh Lord before these feet of mine
Oh Lord before these feet of mine

And He would remind me that…

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands.
When my heart is breaking
I never leave [His} hands.

And for all the wrestling and questions – he would ultimately lead me by the hand to rest. To trust.

So as I daily pass my stack of altars, holding one in my hand.  Feeling the smoothness round and round – I’m reminded to selah.  Be Still.

I could tell the weather on the street was completely different than the weather I had left at work.  The wind was whistling and moving and swirling through the deep staircase of the bus tunnel in a way that made me wonder if I’d end up like one of the nannies at the beginning of Mary Poppins.  Being alone on the staircase, I smiled and played along with it, pretending as if the wind had caught be by surprise and was pulling me up the winding staircase against my will.

The wind was still being mischeivous even as I walked to my bus stop.  It felt like it was playing tag between the tall buildings, alleyways, and dark corners – barrelling up from the Sound through the streets.  Would I be able to resist its pushes and pulls? Could it knock me over.  Running for shelter and safety under cover, the wind gave one more nudge to my purse – blowing it right off!

As I waited I began to notice the leaves.  One moment one would be on the ground, resting as it always had and the next moment – like a shot – it would be caught up in it.  The wind. The dance.

Think about it.  Imagine you’re a leaf.  Sitting there just minding your own business, resigned to the position in which you have ultimately fallen or come to rest.  Only to, in a second, be shot up into heights you never could have imagined existing, let alone, going.  It looked pretty fake – as if each leaf had a string attached – like bad special effects in an old movie.

But I wonder if my life might feel like that someday.  Soon even.  Everything going along seemingly normal until I find myself, in a flash, caught up by a strength much bigger than myself.  Batted around to and fro – so chaotic seeming – but in new heights I’d never would have thought I’d ever experience.

I try so hard to plan and calculate how I am going to get from point A to point B in my life.  But even if I succeed in my plans, do I ever get as far as I might if I’d allowed myself to get carried along? Making sure to enjoy the time in each place, however long I might be there, before getting picked up once again.