Weathered

I ask myself...what is the point of a playscape cover if it isn't fulfilling its purpose to cover, shield and protect? I answer myself...the point must be the bolts and screws. I'll explain later.

Who knew that our cover would look like this just one year after replacing it? I thought our previous cover was in bad shape when we replaced it, yet this one looks as if it's weathered more storms in one year than the previous one had weathered in 5+ years. Everything is relative, isn't it?

The previous cover contended with some mighty elements during its 5+ year stint, yet held up surprinsingly well. I see myself (once again in retrospect) buckling under the pressure of some of my storms during that same period, wondering when life was going to ease up and give me a break. It was one of the hardest times of my life--hard enough to leave a some gaping holes in my "cover."

So how ironic it is to me, that while this past year has ripped our playscape cover to near shreds, I've been dished some of the sweetest blessings of my life. Whatever gaping holes existed before, patches have taken their place.

Could it be that the playscape cover could actually represent people's lives? In my analogy it can. While my cover was coming apart one little thread at a time, were other people rebuilding & patching theirs up...or even getting new coverings all together?

And now while my personal cover seems to be quite intact, are storms knocking some people off their feet as the threads of their covers slowly unravel, raging in the storm, while the elements dictate their direction?

Last year we replaced our playscape cover with the intention of having it look good when it came time to sell our house. Apparently our plan didn't work because we couldn't foresee the power behind this year's storms, nor did we know how strong the new covering was to begin with.

We have no idea what challenge tomorrow may bring with it. We don't know how long today's storm will rage. Sometimes we're not strong enough to keep standing. Sometimes, however, we don't know how strong we are.

I look out my window and observe our playscape cover weathering today's storm, and I know hearts are aching, burdens are heavy, and responsibilities are overwhelming for some. Today's rain is as merciless as yesterday's wind. Day by day, tattered scraps are hopelessly weighed down with even greater force, as more threads silently yield and separate themselves from the stronghold. Even if the sun shines in a few days, the weight of the burden will hover. When comes rest?

I trust that the scripture Matthew 11:28-30 works: "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

It can be difficult to figure out how to apply the scripture when an already destroyed section of our "covering" continues to get beaten repeatedly against the structure it's attached to. But I think this is where the beauty of some simple bolts and screws can be seen. Although our playscape cover has been significantly damaged, the sections that are bolted to the structure itself have been reinforced. The bolts and screws (or whatever hardware those things are) will ensure that the remanants of that covering will hold strong to the structure until they're ready to be repaired or replaced.

Sometimes we're not strong. Sometimes we're downright weak. But when we're anchored to something strong, we can contend with storm after storm and we can even sink lifeless in between beatings; when we don't think we can handle another rainstorm, we'll get a thunderstorm instead...and through ALL of it we'll continue to hold on even though we don't know where our strength is coming from.

Eventually, we'll find ourselves hanging by a thread and we'll find another thread to attach to. The two threads together will find some strength, and will eventually join with another group of threads, until they're all patched up and back in working order. And sometimes the healing is possible, not because we were strong ourselves, but because we attached ourselves to an anchor that wouldn't let go of us.

Which reminds me of a favorite Book of Mormon scripture in Helaman 5:12: "And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall." I love that powerful and promising scripture.

My heart is breaking for loved ones who are struggling. And I feel helpless. Some storms have to be weathered alone. And sometimes that's a blessing. Especially when we realize that we're not alone after all...because we're attached with screws and bolts. We're anchored to the helper of all helpers. And therein, comes rest.