I used to pray geographically at night before bed, starting my “Thank you for…” prayer with the wonders of the depths of the oceans, gradually thanking my way through the shallows and up to the shores, then rising further into the hills and mountains with all of the plants and creatures there, and finally–if I was still awake–thanking God for the planets and stars and galaxies beyond.
Thank you God for the vast beauty of nature–yes, thank you and amen–but today I want to give praise and say thanks for one specific piece within the splendor of your creation: rocks.
Thank you for rocks.
For pointy rocks that my kids dig up in cornfields, then come running to me to say, “I think this one is an arrowhead!”
For humongous rocks on the shoreline in Maine that I climbed confidently in my youth, that my kids now climb to my great terror.
For “rainbow rocks” (as we call them in my family) where hills have been cut open for roads to pass, and the colorful layers of rocks are exposed to travelers.
For smooth rocks, perfect for skipping across the river.
For rocks (and seashells) worn down by centuries of waves to become grains of sand that invite wiggling toes.
For the Rock that I claim beneath my feet, which is more beautiful than all other rocks.
Thank you for rocks.