Naming Stones

 For the last few months, my Sunday afternoons have lovingly been referred to as "Beer and Bibles". In July, a small group of my people and I started meeting at our local brewery to work through studies and discuss our lives, family and faith. We started as three and have grown to 5 now, and together we have been through difficulties with work and children, marriages and parents. We've seen health issues and finance concerns. We've raised a glass to blessings and to dumpster fires. These afternoons have become so meaningful to me, as has our rolling group text which may contain anything from a silly meme to a serious request. 

There is trust in this circle. And that is beautiful. 

Our latest study has had us working through the seasons and the land of our hearts. We've cultivated and tended and this week, we cleared. It was an exercise we'd all done before in one way or another: name a burden you carry. Give it physical weight and then release it. If it is paper, burn it. If a stone, throw it. Just let Jesus have it. 

As we gathered today we each brought our own words. We shared markers and brought extra stones to mark our burdens. Then we chose our manner of release. 

There is a pond just a few miles from where we meet, and though covered in ice at this time of year, we knew that there would be holes from local fisherman. Together we piled into one vehicle and headed towards the dark frozen water. Using the flashlight on my phone, we made our way across the pond, searching out abandoned holes not yet frozen over. 

The ice was thick, and the holes we found were small in diameter with the light echoing off their frozen walls until met the darkness of the water below. Swirling around the water, with a stick discarded on the ice, we cleared the way for our stones. 

It was sacred, there on the ice. For those minutes that we stood there, our breath in puffs against the cold air, we didn't feel the chill. All I noticed were the arms that enveloped me. The gentle whispers of their prayers echoing mine. Their strength and courage as we watched our rocks slip beneath the surface. 

In a few hours time, the hole we found will be covered over in a new layer of ice. A balm to the destruction of the surface. The rocks returned back to the earth where they originated from, no longer ours to carry. Winter will lay her blanket over the covering of the pond, putting to sleep the heartache and burdens we carried. They belong to us no more. 

Physically, we cannot retrieve them. For the season they are sheltered under the layers of snow and ice. When the water thaws, they will be held in place by the mud at the bottom of the pond. The fish may take notice, but they will be left there where they land, never to be seen again. 

Emotionally-now there is the tricky part. Trusting that these burdens are no longer ours. Those stones have worked their way into the bedrock of our heart, and their loss is now felt. While freeing initially, the space they occupied can begin to feel raw and empty. The comfort that we felt in the normal now replaced with a hole that we so often feel needs filled. And it does-but not with those stones. Those sorrow and anger shaped holes, they are meant to be filled with joy. Joy that fills the space and carries a different weight. 

It will be a daily choice to to regather those stones. To emotionally keep myself on the ice-side of that pond. And there will be days when I will take that dive into the cold water. To feel the weight of that burden again in my hand. To hold it close and decide whether or not I will pick it back up again. It is quite likely that I'll name new stones with the same word to be given over again and again, until my heart releases them fully. 

And that is okay. 

I will keep trying. And failing. And trying again. But for now, my sorrow lays rests, blanketed in ice and water. And there it shall stay. 

What burdens are weighing on your heart today? What are you ready to release, that is not yours to carry?