While I was up making sure the roof didn't burn to the ground this past Saturday (click here to read all about that), my impatience led me to investigate some of the gravel that had been placed on top. I'm not sure why the gravel was needed on the roof in the first place--perhaps it served as another layer of protection for the aforementioned flammability concerns--but, regards, there it was.
A particular set of stones caught my eye, and after some careful excavation, I had gathered together the pieces to what looked like a natural rock puzzle.
I wasn't really sure why the this particular rock had been so brittle to split apart into all these various pieces. I couldn't imagine the kind of stress and abuse it had experienced in its life. I wondered what metaphorical straw broke its metaphorical back. What force acted upon this rock to finally shatter it?
I didn't have all the pieces. But I was able to reconstruct what I could.
It is true I didn't have the power to return the rock to its former glory. However, in a certain circumstance, if I could have had the raw firepower to melt this rock down and let it cool again, it would have been whole again.
When it feels like my life has shattered, I often find it is this process of rebuilding that hurts the most. Placing pieces back where they belong and leaving out those unsavory elements is a long and difficult process, and generally requires someone else's aid. Finally, when it is time to ensure that God is back in my life, that fiery refinement process seems most painful.
However, I know that no matter how hard things are, I can be rebuilt. And it is totally worth it.
That rock still sits up on that roof.
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