“Rock of ages cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee …”
The lyrics of this old hymn filtered through the night air as she made her way across the scantily filled street. It came from a local church that was known for its huge megaphones which made everyone in the vicinity a part of their service with or without their will.
She wondered what the composer of the song must have been going through to make him seek a rock to cleave to. “Was it similar to her present predicament?” She thought. There was something in the lead singer’s voice that made her want to interrupt her plan to spare a few seconds and listen.
Her life was completely in shambles and there was no strength left in her to pick up the pieces.
For so many years she had tried to get it right but with every step forward she tumbled three steps backward. On more than one occasion, she would pick up the courage to lift herself off the floor but the bruises never healed, they turned into scars that reminded her of the failure she was. Maybe she needed a rock, a rock that she could hide in, a rock strong enough to contain her weight as her feet can’t be trusted. The kind of rock that would make its imprint on her so the soil would never feel her back again.
“...Could my zeal no respite know, could my tears forever flow…”
As the Pianist struck the chords to the second verse, she broke down in tears, grateful for the almost empty street, although being addressed as mentally unstable or being the object of different judgemental gaze was the least of her worries right now, she still did not want to cause a scene. For a moment she granted her mind the liberty of wondering what passers-by would think of a young adult dressed in a cooperate attire leaning and sobbing against an abused street pole, her thoughts didn’t linger for long before the lyrics drifted into her auditory canal.
“Zeal” She had been defined as a zealous person on more than one occasion, didn’t her last employer address her as zealous a week before she was relieved from her job? More than once her instructors had commented that they admired the zeal she put into every work. Was zeal not enough? Or was she putting her zeal in the wrong places?
The moon was barely visible but she could make out it’s halo. If truly there was a God above then maybe he could have come to her rescue, she thought. The simple act of breathing has become like a punishment and she was going to opt out by dawn.
It has been thirty minutes since she left her apartment, a place where she found a shadow of solace for the past five years. Her red fingers held on tightly to the little package, her plans were all set, once she gets to the cafe down the bridge she would settle her debts and make a peaceful exit from the universe.
Just then, it was as if an invisible force turned on the switch of her memory as images and events of her past resurfaced... People hurried by in groups, little children holding tightly to their parents with one hand and the other hand gripping their little bibles, the hawkers were calling out their wares, some teenagers passed by singing out loudly with headsets on. Her Mom mouthing the lyrics of this same hymn while walking long strides to the church. She was behind her mum holding unto her church bag that accommodated her tiny new testament Bible and candies…She sitting on the front pew fascinated by the stories the preacher told, feeling very special to have such a great person as a heavenly father…
When did God stop being her father or was she the one that stopped relating with Him as one? She began to recall the many times God had stretched out His hands to help her but she ignored it as she felt she was could navigate her way through her life. How many times had she turned down invitations to fellowships and Sunday church service? She could not even remember the last time she opened her bible. However, she knew somewhere within that God never abandoned her and was always watching and waiting for her to come back to Him. She remembered the Sunday school story about the prodigal son and was convicted within her that all she had to do was go back to Jesus.
She bent her knees right there besides the pole and cried out to God for mercy and help, the realization that she was never even really bold enough to take her own life dawned on her and she sobbed harder, what a costly mistake it would have been if she pulled through with her plans. God was all she has been searching for unknowingly, the warmth and love of a heavenly father is what she needed.
A sudden peace began to work its way through her heart, She had not noticed her tense shoulders till they relaxed. It was like a heavy burden has been lifted off her shoulders. For the first time, she understood the scriptures that said “Come unto me all ye that are labour and I will give you rest”
Author’s note:
While reading this short story, maybe somewhere in between the lines you could relate. Are you on the verge of giving up? Or you are weighed down by the struggles of life? you might have attempted so many times to get things right but it seems like nothing is working for you. I want to let you know that God is always extending a hand of help to you, you might have been looking elsewhere your whole life or simply ignoring Him.
God is giving you a second chance today. Dearly beloved, I implore you to turn to Jesus today for He truly cares for you and wants to lift that heavy burden off you.
Image Credit: ec.europa.eu