The Rock

Life brings good times and hard times. Here’s how I learned to pray and, when I am overwhelmed, to run to “the Rock.”

As World War II drew to a close, my mother heard a radio program. The speaker spoke on biblical subjects that challenged what she had been taught. He challenged people to “blow the dust off your Bible; … don’t believe me, believe your Bible.” This provoked my mom to begin studying the Bible in earnest. As she learned, she taught my brothers and me.

I remember the day she taught us to pray.

Our farmhouse was nestled in a 3-mile-long valley in southeastern Oklahoma. Two hills framed our house and provided us a wonderful playground. We had many adventures building forts and defending our land from “invaders” on those rocky, tree-covered hills.

One special rock

Near the top of the hill that was closest to our house was a large rock covered in moss. It was a perfect place to use as a “lookout” post. From our rock, hidden by trees, we looked out over a pasture, pond and to the rise of the other hill.

One Sabbath my mother took us up the hill to that rock. There, she began to teach us to pray.

Leaving home

My life took me away from my valley home with the large rock on the hill. But the lessons I learned from my mother about God, the Bible and my need to pray continued to guide me as I married and had my own children.

Over the years, my husband and I were privileged to live in many parts of our nation as we served the congregations he pastored. 

Almost home again

Forty years after I left home, we returned to serve congregations in the western Arkansas and southeastern Oklahoma area—just one hour away from the home of my childhood.

My father’s death had left my mother alone in our family home, and within months after my return, mom suffered two strokes. She could no longer live by herself, so she came to live with my husband and me.

Our old farmhouse sat empty.

More trials

Not long after mom’s strokes, my strong and steadfast husband developed health problems that rendered him incapable of teaching and helping the brethren. Life lay heavy on the three of us! I struggled to care for both of them and to stay mindful of the needs of the three congregations we served.

An overwhelmed heart took me back to the rock. One Sabbath day I was physically, emotionally and spiritually drained from my efforts to be caregiver to the two people I had always depended on for strength.

I told my husband that I needed to go back to the farm! I needed to climb the hill to that rock—to go back to where I first learned how to pray.

I remember tears flowing down my face as I made the hour-long drive. I hurried up the hill and climbed up on that rock. I remember looking up into a beautiful blue sky as I prayed, pouring out my troubled heart to my Heavenly Father. I remember telling Him that it was “here, on this land,” where He first reached down into my life.

I spent about an hour in prayer on that rock before I knew it was time for me to go back. I went back into the same situation—but with a peace of mind and strength that had come from God.

“The rock that is higher than I”

Even as I “ran” to that physical rock, I knew that it was just that—a rock. I knew the rock I needed was the same rock spoken of by King David in Psalm 61:2: “From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I” (emphasis added).

Life will bring good times and hard times. Always pray to God with thankfulness in the good times, and remember, when your heart is overwhelmed, run to “The Rock”!