Now, I come from a part of the world where there are a lot of stones. And not only stones, but rocks. I mean, really big rocks. Really, really big rocks. The Rocky Mountain kind of big rocks. This rock is located just a few miles from my parents home and there are many more like it in the surrounding area.
I'm not sure when my rock collecting started. I can remember in my childhood receiving from someone a sheet of cardboard with little stones glued to it. Each stone was labeled as to what it was and possibly (I don't remember this exactly) where it came from. Some of those stones were beautiful. At least one looked like a nice chunk of caramel candy. Others just looked like the rocks we had out in the driveway, ho hum. I can remember actually licking that caramel colored stone - it was all smooth and shiny and looked really good - was it a stone or was it candy just pretending to be a stone? Ah, childhood - when life was simple. heh heh
The next real memory of my collecting stones comes from Alaska. I remember walking along a glacial river, a tributary to the mighty Copper River near Copper Center. I was with Mel and he was showing me 'his' Alaska. I was intrigued by the stones and rocks along the river bank. Many of them were a dark gray with brilliant white stripes running through them. I collected a handful of small stones, ones more unusual than the others due to the angles or widths of the stripes, and even a couple of pure white stones. I have no idea whatever happened to them. Maybe some day an geologist will excavate an area and wonder how those particular stones from the Copper River Basin in Alaska ended up in Fairbanks or possibly even in Colorado.
When we lived in the Wet Mountain Valley of Colorado we explored the area at every opportunity. One of the things I really enjoyed was collecting stones and rocks from different places. Green stones, maroon rocks, stripped rocks, yellow stones, and best of all, some pale tan and rust striped rocks. I ended up with a quart sized jar of different stones, all smaller than an inch in diameter, but beautiful in a variety of color, texture and pattern. The tan and rust striped rocks were/are amazing. The stripes were in circles and curly cues and waves. No two rocks were alike. I wanted a whole collection of them. Imagine the following photo as a rock you can actually pick up:
Poor Mel got tired of finding rocks in the back of our van after I'd go out for a walk. I used them as borders for my flower gardens and even took some of them up to my parents place. My mother still uses them as borders around her flower gardens. When we left that place, I dug the most beautiful ones out of the garden border and they are in storage right now as I write this.One of the beautiful things God has given us that we so often take for granted. How often do we look at the ground around us and see the diversity, the beauty, the gift God has given us? All too seldom, I fear.
I have a small collection of stones here in Ukraine, picked up along the river or out in a village we visited once. There are also stones from Spain, California and one may be from Oregon. Unfortunately, I love the way they look, but I forget exactly where they come from. Mixed in with those stones in the little display are seashells from the Mediterranean Sea, Red Sea and Pacific Ocean, and several small pieces of driftwood from the Pacific.
Several times Ukrainians have asked me why I have all those stones, shells and weird pieces of wood on that shelf. I say, "They each remind me of some place I have been." But there is more to it than that. They are beautiful. And I like them.
This morning, while checking out the articles on geology.com, I came across this video clip:Balancing Rocks by Bill Dan
There is more information about this guy, and others who do this, on Rock On, Rock ON!
Last night at our team prayer time, Mel gave a short devotional on what it means to 'enjoy God', mentioning Eric Liddell's famous quote: "God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure." We talked about what we do where we also feel God's pleasure. I showed this YouTube video to Mel and his first response was, "I hope he feels God's pleasure when he does this." I hope so. It is an amazing talent, what this man can do, a combination of God given eye-hand coordination and patience. As I watched him, I thought about how his eyes saw the stone and his hand held the stone and his arms felt the weight of the rock resting against his muscles - until suddenly, that weight was gone - resting instead totally on the stone beneath.
I like rocks. I'm glad God made rocks. I feel His pleasure when I enjoy His creation.
