All of us can think of people in our lives who have gone before us and led us – often quietly – to a better place. This is a short story about the power of those people, and about the power we carry when we chose to become one of them. My hope is that it encourages you to be thankful for the people who led you and to be intentional about the people you’re leading. Chances are, you may never even see them, but I can guarantee that they see you.
Thanks for reading,
Paul
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The Man on the Rock
The wind blew swiftly across my face. It was a cold, brisk wind and it caught me off guard. Suddenly I was struggling to regain my foothold; one that, until then, had seemed strong. But, then again, when the wind doesn’t blow, any foothold can seem strong.
It wasn’t until now that I noticed any higher ground. I only caught a glimpse of it before falling again at the power of the wind. In a frenzied panic I grabbed anything that could stop my fall – branches, roots, trees. Almost as quickly as it had begun, my descent came to a stop. Painfully I checked my injuries and found plenty of scrapes and bruises, but luckily, nothing serious. I slammed my fist into the soft ground. “Why?” I screamed, even though I knew no one would hear. The only noises were the loud beating of my heart and the raspy, labored breathing as I fought to give my lungs the oxygen they craved.
I stood to compose myself and noticed the rock again. It rose slowly towards the sky, growing larger as it extended. I wondered how I had missed such a huge feature, one that now seemed so alive. The base of it was covered with vegetation. Plants and trees mixed with the grass and roots. But as the rock stretched towards the sky, I noticed that there were less and less trees; and then, when my eyes reached the top, I saw that it was completely bare.
As I began to look away, something caught my eye.
Something had moved on top of the rock, although I wasn’t sure what. Straining to see, I was barely able to make out the form of a man making his way to the top. I wiped the blood and dirt from my eyes and looked again. Now, seeing more clearly, I realized that he was looking for something. It was easy to see that he had expected something to be there that wasn’t. I could make out little more, other than the fact that he was alone. Yet even from a distance I could tell that this was a man of power and stability, unlike me. This is what drove me closer to him. Slowly, I crawled toward the rock, my eyes never leaving the man. The closer I got to the rock, the less pain I felt, until, at the base of the rock, I was once again standing. The wind began to blow again, harder than before, but it was easier to keep my footing now that I was standing on the rock.
I stayed at the base for a while, leaning on a tree to brace myself against the wind. I studied the man. I longed to be near him and to learn from him. This one desire drove me on, and so I began the long climb, using the trees and branches to pull myself higher. It seemed that in no time I was halfway to the top. I looked back where I had come from and noticed how much the trees had thinned out; and then, looking ahead I found only a few more between myself and the top. I suddenly realized just how dependent I was becoming on the rock. I placed my face next to the cold stone. I had so much security when I was near the rock and I smiled when I thought about how much I needed it.
The man was much clearer now and I could see the rigidness in his stance. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets and his face was drawn tight. His hair was blown by a fierce, swirling wind which made the gusts I had felt below seem more like a breeze. And yet this man stood firm. What power he had!
I longed even more to be near him.
As I rose to continue the climb, the wind increased. Its velocity seemed to grow with every step. Occasionally I would brace myself against a tree until, finally, there were no more. I sank to the rock, trembling, shaken by the realization that it was all I had left to cling to. In the wild wind, I had become totally dependent upon it for my survival.
I rose once more, this time with renewed determination and commitment. Clinging to the rock, I crawled up the rest of the incline until I reached a small ledge just below the top. Here I was able to rest for a moment, and for the first time since I had started my climb, I lost sight of the man.
My rest complete, I crawled up the last few feet and peered over the edge to see the man. To my horror and disappointment, he wasn’t there! I scrambled to the top and began searching frantically for the man who had so inspired my climb. Realizing that my search was in vain, I closed my eyes. I pictured the man and for the first time I saw how small he had been in comparison to the rock. I felt the power of the rock and I realized where his power had come from. He had merely been an extension of the rock. My mind raced with unanswered questions. What had been his purpose? How had he found the rock? Why me now?
Without warning, something stirred below where I had once been.
As I looked closely, I noticed that someone had fallen, and finally, it all made sense. Just as the man had led me to this place of oneness with the rock and stability in the wind, so he had been led by a man, and that man by another man, and another man before him, and so on. They had all climbed the rock and in turn stood as an example to unstable men of the stability that comes in being totally dependent on the rock. Realizing this, I humbly accepted my role in this cycle of men.
At once, the power of the rock surged through my being, and shoving my hands deep into my pockets and drawing my face tight, I leaned into the wind. And as the men before me had, and the men after me would, I became the man on the rock.
© 2014 Paul Jenkins. All rights reserved.
