thoughts on boulders

 

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?

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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?