i am not a rock

Simon & Garfunkel sang a song back in the 60s called “I am a Rock.”  Selected lyrics are as follows:

I’ve built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.

So, through a confluence of events in the past several weeks, I’m at this place where I realize – I am not rock.  I am strong and I *am* a warrior.  But I am not a rock.  I cannot do this all alone – and I wasn’t created to.

I’m processing a lot of stuff that I’m not able to share at this point, but when the therapist we’re seeing said, “And what about you, Cori? I’m concerned that you’re over there, being this rock … and that you need to let it out and let others support you.  Are you?”  He knows of my writing, but I didn’t tell him of my Prayer Huddle – virtual friends who support the heck out of each other – and there are a few ‘safe havens’ we have right now.  These are good and necessary.  Because I’m realizing, that without wallowing in self-pity or getting mired in navel-gazing, I’m not a rock.  I like to pretend I am … but I’m not.

And then my household gets sick.  And by “sick,” I mean vile contents spewing out of orifices from everyone but me.  Although all of that *makes me* want to spew, but that’s another story.  And so as our son gets it, I’m on-duty.  And then my husband gets it – and our son is still sick – I’m on duty.  I’m a pretty capable woman, all things considered.  But for the second morning in a row, I realize I’ve forgotten to close the garage door before going to bed.  Ordinarily, not a big deal.  But it snows here.  A lot.  And guess what blows in the garage when the door is open?  Yeah.  Snow.  Lots of it.  This is typically something my husband does at night, and with everything else, I simply didn’t think about it.

And oddly enough, this reality of having to shovel snow out of the garage made me realize:  I’m not a rock.  I cannot do this alone.  I was made for companionship (Genesis 2:18).  I was made to walk this earth with another – my soulmate – and in relationship with him and with God, Who created me.  I was also made to share my life with others – to have relationships that are dynamic, alive, and that allow God to work in me and through me.  I was not designed to go through life’s challenges alone – as a rock.  It’s what the Church is all about – to bear one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2) and to encourage each other on in what God has called us to (Galatians 6:9).

And so here I am: not a rock.  Although it would be easier to *be* a rock, because as Simon & Garfunkel sang, “And a rock feels no pain | And an island never cries.”  Life isn’t always easy, but we support each other through it all.  God supports us through the pain and the hard times, and then we have the ability to do that for others.  We call, He answers.  Others call, He answers – many times through us.  Conversely to the song lyrics, while a rock can’t feel pain, it also can’t feel joy.  An island never cries [in pain], but it also can’t cry from sheer relief or happiness.  With the ability to experience pain comes the ability to experience joy, too.

Don’t be an island or a rock.  It’s a great folk song, but it’s a rotten way to live.  Because eventually, the face of the rock chips away and falls off.  It’s going to come out at that point anyhow – so let it out now, when there are people around to walk you through it.  Take their hands and walk it together.  Because it’s too hard to do alone.

His and his,


This entry was posted on 092044H Jan 2009 and is filed under Anger, Forgiveness, Path to Healing, Sexual Brokenness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

  • http://www.sensuouswife.com Sensuous Wife

    I love you.

  • http://poeticrebirth.blogspot.com/ Heidi

    Wow. That was sort-of-but-not one of my songs last year. I get the last few lines, that it’s really a lament, but at the time I wanted/needed to sequester myself from the outside world for a season, out of self-preservation and a need to heal in my safe haven (home).

    It’s hard not to get stuck in that rut though!!

    I hope your family fully recovers. I hear you on the perils of leaving garage doors open in the winter. Snow likes to pile up around here too. :-)