Another day of
pushing boulders up a hill,
using back and hands and face and feet
being the momentum behind it all,
fighting complaints, laziness, gravity, the universe itself
holding the boulders up, and the standards
accountability and measuring progress
with shaking arms and sweat and exhausted determination
She’s trying to convince the boulders that UP is UP
when they argue “what’s even the point?”
thinking that they would be happier if mom would just let them go
that a roll downhill would be fun,
they want peace in the valley
(the mountain is too much work)
and she does too! But pushing boulders up a hill
bearing the weight of each one and the way they should go
(always up,
always up,
miles and miles more to go)
this seems to be her job right now
always up, she pushes
boulders who sometimes hate her for pushing
angry boulders
who wish they were anywhere else but here
on this mountain,
with her
and the constant pushing.
Will they be happy to know
that her arms are giving out?
Will she be flattened when she lets go?
---
She’s taking a minute, these days,
She’s sitting, for just a minute, and she’s wondering…
Is she living the wrong metaphor?
What if kids don’t actually need to be FORCED through the seasons
What if the growth is what’s natural, not just the gravity,
What if growing up is more like rolling DOWN the hill?
What if gravity and growth are both the work of God
a work that will happen with or without her?
How much of her parenting efforts are like trying to turn a river sideways,
when really all the river needs is a little bit of shoring up on the sides?
Or maybe some rivers do need turning, but she’s not strong enough
If she died tomorrow, time will keep moving and they will keep growing, rolling without her.
They would still grow up.
What if some of her pushing boulders UP the hill is actually fighting the plan of God,
pushing against her own powerlessness,
trying to control what she can’t control,
pushing hard against simply LETTING God’s plan unfold?
What if they are all going to grow up with broken parts,
like she did,
and what if there’s nothing she can do about that?
And what if God will help them work it out
and cover it all in grace
and it will still be OK?
What if He actually has a purpose for them?
What if it includes suffering?
What if she could believe suffering didn’t mean his absence,
didn’t mean all was lost?
What if she didn’t think it was her job to help everyone avoid pain?
What if her work to avoid suffering
is pushing a boulder up a hill
fighting gravity
AND fighting God?
What if no matter what she does the boulders are going to roll
and her only real choice is to fruitlessly fight it
or get out of the way?
And sometimes even be flattened by it?
What if boulders rolling down the hill
are not always plans out of control,
or despair,
or backtracking,
but are sometimes like shedding a weight not meant to be carried,
like joyful resignation,
like
children running down a hill,
learning how legs work,
how grass feels under their feet
taking the risks of falling,
wind in their hair,
gaining speed,
figuring it out
what if the boulders are people,
learning to run and not grow weary
gravity and God and risk and suffering and joy all together
What if someday she could learn to run with them?
