Splashing Rocks and Finding Rest
The story I tell in this post takes place when Soren was a toddler, but the bigger boy version of Soren still loves splashing rocks, this one against a sunset sky over Lake Superior.
There is only so much fun in the sun that a toddler can handle, and Soren had reached his limit. As exhaustion overcame him, he began to spin out of control, cutting a loud and destructive path through our campsite.
After he had somewhat calmed down and (sort-of) made amends to those wounded by his tantrum, I asked if he wanted to throw rocks into the stream. With a sniffle, he wiped the tears from his face and nodded. Then turning, he set off on his mission with quiet determination.
I followed him down the narrow path that cut through the tall grasses separating our campsite from a small stream. Once on the bank, Soren knew what to do. He’d squat low, searching for just the right rock. When he’d find one, he’d send it flying, watch it splash, and then do it again. And again. And again.
As Soren tossed rock after rock, I noticed a change come over him. His face softened and his movements quickened. It was as if, along with the rocks, he was tossing every frustration into the stream. Before long, he was smiling and even laughing, calling out “Mom, watch this!”
After a while his big brother emerged through the grasses and asked what we were doing. I told him we were throwing rocks into the stream. Why? he wanted to know.
Because, I answered, it’s good for Soren’s soul.
I love that about Soren. I love that God designed his soul to be at peace throwing rocks into a stream. And I love that God uses simple things that even toddlers can experience—like a quiet moment beside still waters—to illustrate a deeper truth. Psalm 23 uses this very imagery to invite us to an enduring rest.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul. Psalm 23:1-2 ESV
Even when the waters of our circumstances are rough, when the days are stormy and the valley is dark, our Good Shepherd stands at the ready to lead our souls to the lush, green pastures of His love and the deep, still waters of His peace. It is there, in His presence, that our souls are able to slow, settle, and breathe deep. In Him, our souls are restored. In Him, we find our rest.
And if it should happen that in that place of rest we also get to splash a few rocks, well, that’s just an added bonus.
