The Story of My Rock

In my desk drawer is a small piece of concrete in a drawstring bag. I've kept it for years, and every now and then I pull it out and look at it, feel its roughness, put it back in the bag, draw the string, and return it to the back of the drawer. It's a piece of the Berlin Wall.

I didn't buy it as a souvenir. It was sent to the radio station where I worked at the time of the wall's collapse. Some record company was using it as a promotional gimmick to get us to notice their artist's Wall-related song.

I had watched the news as the wall fell, and had felt so happy for the families who were re-united after so many years, and for the people who would be free now, and were dancing and feeling the joy of it. I remember thinking at the time, "God did this." Like I've said, that's how I think, and I believe it's true. Too many people had prayed for this day. And now it was here.

Then I thought, if God can do this with a concrete wall that represents so much, he can do it with the walls in my little life. And believe me, there were walls. Then the piece of the wall came to us, and nobody knew what to do with it, so I took it.

And sure enough, over the next few years I became less of a loner, and more a part of the community of believers that was around me. I'd pull out that rock often back then, and think, "It's happening!" And I'd feel a little of the joy those East Germans must have felt at the time.


I used to have a recurring dream. Maybe I read too much apocalyptic fiction as a kid. I probably read too much of Tarzan and Robinson Crusoe, but I'd dream that the world was coming to an end, they were going after the Christians, and I would head out into the wilderness to hide and live off the land. But then I would somehow circle back and end up back in civilization. I remember the frustration I'd feel as I woke up. I wanted to be away from everyone! Then one night, maybe a year or two after the concrete rock came to me, I dreamed the dream again. This time I had a good campfire going, the kind that would put out the least amount of smoke, and it happened. People started showing up. They were from my church, completely oblivious to my desire to be alone. They turned up in two's and three's, armed with smiles, marshmallows, hot dogs and chocolate for s'mores, and before I knew it, people were cooking, laughing, sitting around talking and eating s´mores. I was dumbstruck. I looked around, helpless to explain that this was MY camp, MY escape, and nobody had been invited. Then I just laughed and gave up, made s'mores and enjoyed the company. They were my community. My family.

That was the last time I had that dream, and it was years ago. One wall, I guess, came down.

-Godseeker