Playing with rocks
I spent all day yesterday playing with rocks with my family. We found big rocks, small rocks, weird rocks and simple rocks of all shapes and sizes. Then we made piles of rocks. Long lines and tall piles.
Sounds fun, huh?
Actually it was. We were working with the Austin Disaster Relief Network to help a family who had suffered great loss in the wildfires back in September. This family owned an 87-acre zip-line and wildlife center. 86 acres had burned. God's mercy saved their house, but not much else. What was once a lush landscape of oaks, cedars, and all kinds of grasses and vegetation for their herd of bison now looks like something out of a spooky movie. All you could see were tall, black, charred remains of trees, soot-colored soil, and rocks. Lots of rocks.
The property had been beautiful, I'm sure. The land had a couple of springs and ravines that would have been breath-taking, particularly if you were hanging from one of the many lines in the canopy above. I can't imagine waking up to the contrast every single day, like those home owners do. Heart-breaking. It's going to be years before it recovers. We were there to help it along.
The danger now is erosion. All of the vegetation that used to slow the runoff into the creek and ravines is gone. There's plenty of rich topsoil, but nothing at all to keep the rain from washing it all down the creek and clogging it up. So we collected rocks by the wheel-barrow load and began building berms and dams and blockades to trap the soil and keep it on higher ground.
All of this work had to be done by hand. Large machines on the property would compact the soil and crush any seeds that are taking root. As I searched for loose rocks large enough to be hard for water to move but small enough to be manageable, I could see hundreds of blue bonnet plants coming up from the black soil. There were small patches of grass and clover, encouraged by the fall showers that we've had. But these were tiny fragile things. The thought of a bulldozer trampling these signs of life was unbearable.
And so my husband, my children and I worked with others from our church and moved hundreds of pounds of rock. The property owner worked side by side with us, directing our efforts, and pulling fallen branches and trees into long lines to help slow down any water coming down the hillside. By three in the afternoon, we were all tired and sore. Our faces were smudged in black, our clothes filthy and we stank to high heaven. But a berm protecting the homestead and a three-foot high dam at the head of a ravine stood as proud monuments to our efforts.
The owner had tears in her eyes as we prayed with her to close the day. We hugged her and each other in satisfaction for the hours of hard labor. And as my family and I drove away, I looked back over the property and sighed. I prayed that the rocks exposed by fire would serve well in their new locations. Though the land was scarred beyond belief, what was uncovered was exactly what was needed. With the help of many hands, the owner could now have hope in the recovery of her little corner of paradise.
Have you been ravaged by a fire of one kind or another? Maybe not a physical fire, but something far more intense and devastating - betrayal,financial ruin, bad news from the doctor. What rocks have been exposed that are now available to shore up the weak areas and help you in the recovery? Perhaps all you need are some extra hands to come move things around and build up your defenses as you rest and recover. And with that help, Lord willing, someday you will be lush and beautiful again....maybe even more than you ever were. That's my prayer.
Sounds fun, huh?
Actually it was. We were working with the Austin Disaster Relief Network to help a family who had suffered great loss in the wildfires back in September. This family owned an 87-acre zip-line and wildlife center. 86 acres had burned. God's mercy saved their house, but not much else. What was once a lush landscape of oaks, cedars, and all kinds of grasses and vegetation for their herd of bison now looks like something out of a spooky movie. All you could see were tall, black, charred remains of trees, soot-colored soil, and rocks. Lots of rocks.
The property had been beautiful, I'm sure. The land had a couple of springs and ravines that would have been breath-taking, particularly if you were hanging from one of the many lines in the canopy above. I can't imagine waking up to the contrast every single day, like those home owners do. Heart-breaking. It's going to be years before it recovers. We were there to help it along.
The danger now is erosion. All of the vegetation that used to slow the runoff into the creek and ravines is gone. There's plenty of rich topsoil, but nothing at all to keep the rain from washing it all down the creek and clogging it up. So we collected rocks by the wheel-barrow load and began building berms and dams and blockades to trap the soil and keep it on higher ground.
All of this work had to be done by hand. Large machines on the property would compact the soil and crush any seeds that are taking root. As I searched for loose rocks large enough to be hard for water to move but small enough to be manageable, I could see hundreds of blue bonnet plants coming up from the black soil. There were small patches of grass and clover, encouraged by the fall showers that we've had. But these were tiny fragile things. The thought of a bulldozer trampling these signs of life was unbearable.
And so my husband, my children and I worked with others from our church and moved hundreds of pounds of rock. The property owner worked side by side with us, directing our efforts, and pulling fallen branches and trees into long lines to help slow down any water coming down the hillside. By three in the afternoon, we were all tired and sore. Our faces were smudged in black, our clothes filthy and we stank to high heaven. But a berm protecting the homestead and a three-foot high dam at the head of a ravine stood as proud monuments to our efforts.
The owner had tears in her eyes as we prayed with her to close the day. We hugged her and each other in satisfaction for the hours of hard labor. And as my family and I drove away, I looked back over the property and sighed. I prayed that the rocks exposed by fire would serve well in their new locations. Though the land was scarred beyond belief, what was uncovered was exactly what was needed. With the help of many hands, the owner could now have hope in the recovery of her little corner of paradise.
Have you been ravaged by a fire of one kind or another? Maybe not a physical fire, but something far more intense and devastating - betrayal,financial ruin, bad news from the doctor. What rocks have been exposed that are now available to shore up the weak areas and help you in the recovery? Perhaps all you need are some extra hands to come move things around and build up your defenses as you rest and recover. And with that help, Lord willing, someday you will be lush and beautiful again....maybe even more than you ever were. That's my prayer.
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