When the Rock Doesn’t Appear to Be Moving

By definition, a parable is a simple story used to illustrate a moral or spiritual lesson. Jesus liked to tell parables to help his listeners “get it”. I read a parable recently. It isn’t one of Jesus’. In fact, the source is unknown, but the lesson learned is one I personally have had to learn time and again through my years as Jerry’s caregiver. Here goes…

Once upon a time, there was a man who was sleeping at night in his cabin when suddenly his room filled with light and the Saviour appeared. The Lord told the man He had work for him to do, and showed him a large rock in front of his cabin. The Lord explained that the man was to push against the rock with all his might. This the man did, day after day. For many years he toiled from sun up to sun down, his shoulders set squarely against the cold, massive surface of the unmoving rock, pushing with all his might.

Each night the man returned to his cabin sore and worn out, feeling that his whole day had been spent in vain. Seeing that the man was showing signs of discouragement, Satan decided to enter the picture placing thoughts into the man's mind such as: "You have been pushing against that rock for a long time, and it hasn't budged. Why kill yourself over this? You are never going to move it." Thus giving the man the impression that the task was impossible and that he was a failure.

These thoughts discouraged and disheartened the man even more. "Why kill myself over this?" he thought. "I'll just put in my time, giving just the minimum of effort and that will be good enough." And that he planned to do until one day he decided to make it a matter of prayer and take his troubled thoughts to the Lord.

"Lord," he said, "I have laboured long and hard in your service, putting all my strength to do that which you have asked. Yet, after all this time, I have not even budged that rock a half a millimeter. What is wrong? Why am I failing?" To this the Lord responded compassionately, "My child, when long ago I asked you to serve me and you accepted, I told you that your task was to push against the rock with all your strength, which you have done. Never once did I mention to you that I expected you to move it. Your task was to push.

And now you come to me, your strength spent, thinking that you have failed. But, is that really so? Look at yourself. Your arms are strong and muscled, your back sinewed and brown, your hands are callused from constant pressure, and your legs have become massive and hard. Through opposition, you have grown much and your abilities now surpass that which you used to have. Yet you haven't moved the rock. But your calling was to be obedient and to push and to exercise your faith and trust in My wisdom. This you have done. I, my child, will now move the rock."

Source Unknown

God has asked me to be Jerry’s caregiver. The rock? I don’t know what it is…autism maybe. Sometimes I question if it is just one rock, or a quarry of them. The years spent repeating tasks and words, and chores, and routines - only to see him struggle with three steps forward and two steps back. Sometimes it has been two steps forward and three steps back. He learns a skill. A lack of repetitiveness and he soon forgets it. The YEARS spent teaching ABC’s and sight words and phonics and he still cannot read. Teaching the life skill of using a debit card, just to have technology change or see him struggle with each store having different machines at checkout. Pushing against Medicaid in our fight for ABA hours. Advocating at schools for teachers who are skilled, qualified, treat him humanely, and don’t just babysit him. Helping him learn to be a friend and find quality friends in a world that doesn’t like “different”. Teaching him independence in tasks just to have well-meaning people who don’t have a long-term goal in mind for him treat him like he can’t do anything and do it for him. I have pushed against a lot of rocks! Some have rolled away, some have shifted slightly, and others have never budged an inch.

But it’s not about the rock. It’s been more about what God has done in me as I have struggled to move them. He has grown my patience, resilience…built my muscles of endurance through the toughest of circumstances (Anyone remember Jerry and puberty?). He has given me the ability to see the gray and not just the black and white in each scenario - be it our own or in the lives of others. He has given me thicker skin and a softer heart. He has opened my eyes to the needs of others - so much greater than my own. He has helped me see the joy and the things to be grateful for, even when I have had to really dig to unearth them. He has strengthened spiritual muscles to pray and trust and rely solely on Him for my needs…and even my wants sometimes too.

I hate the rock some days. Some days I just look at it, shake my head, and walk away feeling defeated. Some days, I shrug my shoulders at the rock and look at it with indifference. Some days, I kick the snot out of it angrily, only to limp away in pain while the inanimate rock just mocks my attempt to hurt it. Other days, I OWN that rock and I push it for all I am worth - until I am spent, but satisfied. I don’t see a future without the rock in it, but that does not make me sad or angry or feel sorry for myself. It’s my rock and, oddly enough, I have grown a little protective of it and its role in my life. And besides, as I look around, I see we all have a rock. Yours may be bigger than mine or have sharper crags. It may have a chunk broken off an edge where you managed to lift it up high enough before you had to let it slam back to the ground. Maybe the face of your rock is smoothed over from the wash of your salty tears running over it day after day. You have your rock. I have mine.

Take inventory. Name your rock. Own it. Acknowledge its weight. Accept it for what it is, but most importantly, make a list of the ways your rock has moved YOU - regardless of your inability to move it. Then give it all to THE Rock, the only One who can move not just rocks, but mountains.