G

She was exhausted. Her feet ached from all of the walking, the running. Blisters formed on her heels, her toes, and her arms from the heat and the dust. Her shoes ripped to shreds, held together only by the duct tape she found on the side of the road, hung helplessly off her feet. The sun was relentless. All she wanted - all she needed was some shade. Just a small piece of shade - and water. Oh, how her body yearned for a drop. Just one little drop of water and she thought she might be able to go on.

But, go on where? For miles and miles all she could see in any direction was dirt. Dust clogged her nose, covered the insides of her parched mouth and the fireball in the sky terrorized her back with heat so intense she thought she might be on fire. Her stomach was so empty it no longer even recognized the pains of hunger. When did she eat last? Five days ago? Six days ago? Or was it six years? She no longer could count the passing time. All she knew, all she remembered was this desert. She shielded her eyes from the sand the wind was throwing in her face and she scanned the horizon for some place to go. Any place. Anything. Anything that would bring relief. Anything but that.

Not far from where she stood was a rock. It was a large boulder really. When she first started to run she had stopped there. Her friends had warned her about the rock. “Don’t go there,” they advised. “It will change you - destroy you,” others said. A few told her she would find shelter and safety there. Weary, she once approached the rock, but when she got there, she was afraid. It didn't feel safe. It didn't look like any place she had seen before. It was foreign to her and she did not trust it. A small, gentle voice whispered and called to her to stay, to stop, to rest, but a louder voice beckoned her away. "You can do this - you do not need this rock." And so away she went.

But now, she was more drained than she thought she could ever be. More dirty than she imagined possible and the feelings of being exhausted, lost, and polluted by the dirt- were more than she could endure any longer. “I should just end it all,” she said to no one. “It would take away my pain.” Her voice cracked under the weight of her confession. She lowered her head. And then, raising her eyes, she looked at the rock. One last time. Her eyes lingered on the rock. Rest, safety, shelter, that is what she hungered for most. That is what her body ached for. She sighed, took a step and stumbled. Crashing to the hard ground her knees took the impact. She rolled over to her back and lifted her knees. Bloody, cut, bruised and covered in sand and dirt. She wanted to cry - but there were no more tears. She lifted her head and turned toward the rock. Unable to stand, she determined to struggle on her wounded knees over to the rock.

She clambered into a crevice and let go of all of her weight. The small crack in the rock cradled her and seemed to fit her wearied body perfectly. She laid her head back and rested - for the first time in her life she let her body rest completely. And as she lay there, hidden from the sun, the fire that had raged before began to wane. Slowly she became aware that tears were forming in her eyes and cascading down her checks – and they were bringing sweet relief as she gave way to the rock.

The sky darkened and drops of water fell from the sky. Rain - she laughed with joy. Rain! Soft, gentle, precious rain. With her mouth open to the sky she drank as much of the sweet nectar as she dared. Then, strengthened, she stood on the rock, ripped off her filthy torn and stained clothing, and let the rain wash over her - over all of her. She left nothing untouched by the deluge. Slowly, life began to return. Her skin was becoming clean - the dirt was disappearing. Her sore, cut, and torn feet hurt as the rain pelted down - but it was a good hurt, she was becoming clean and she celebrated the process. Small rocks fell from her hair and she began to 'wash' it in the torrent of rain that was now covering her as she stood on the rock.

The rain tapered off and she gazed at her cool, clean, soft skin as if she had never seen it before. Her throat, no longer parched, her back no longer on fire, her feet, though still sore were clean - and ready to heal. “The rock,” she yelled to no one – “I am standing on the rock, and I am being healed!"

"Hallelujah,

Grace like rain falls down on me

Hallelujah, all my stains are washed

away, washed away"

Todd Agnew

"The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety" Psalm 18:2 NLT