Playing Games with Rocks

As a child, my mom and I used to stand at the edge of a pond somewhere in North Carolina. I remember being transfixed on the sheer serenity of it all. Anyway, she'd hand me and my brother smooth stones, and then instruct us to watch her. At that moment, she'd lean back and hurl the rock towards the water. I remember how our mouths dropped open when the rock skipped across the surface, teasing the top of the water about jumping in. My brother and I would lean back, and SPLOOSH; we had a lot to learn.

Grabbing a rock and throwing it was fun. Chuck and I would have games; who threw it the farthest, who hit the target, who could make it skip the most across the water. There came a time when rules were instituted for the rock throwing, the first of which was not to throw them at anyone else. In our exuberance, we did it anyway, but didn't realize how much pain and discomfort we could cause someone else. Seeing the pain that occurred as a result of stubbornness was a lot to take in, but we came to realize the value of the instruction - as a child.

It seems that lesson needs to continually be revisited. The time for playing games with rocks has passed, instead a transition began, one that I didn't even recognize. Those rocks were replaced with judgment and it was judging others that became the game I played. I'd see someone's actions, and compliment them, but then insult them just like skipping a rock. I forgot the first rule, don't throw it at anyone else. I did not realize that it was their heart I teased and hurt at the same time. Their faces would glow upon receipt of the kind words, happiness was glinting at the surface. I could see it in their eyes, and then the words would stop their dance on the surface and plunge into them with a splash. I could see that in their eyes too.

The rocks never went away, instead judgment took it's place. Jesus said, "Stop judging others, and you will not be judged. For others will treat you as you treat them (Matt. 7:1-2)." What I'd found most disheartening in those closest to me; in my family, in my friends, in my peers were some of the same habits I have. The rules to the games that I used to play have changed. Jesus, the only one qualified to throw a stone - you remember that one, "He who is without sin may cast the first stone..." chose forgiveness, love, acceptance, and redemption. He embraced those who were the target of scorn and ridicule and unified the disenfranchised. Some of the same persons I was willing to dismiss and ignore, were the same ones who welcomed me and attended to me. They bandaged the wounds that were inflicted upon me when my heart was damaged. I'd often repay their love by refusing to drop my own stones. It was in those moments that I realized that "love covers a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8)." Most of what I'd inexplicably done to them was forgiven and love was returned.

How often is a hug welcomed with a balled fist and a weapon in hand? Who's trusting of someone armed to hurt them?