Easter morning, after a well attended and energized sunrise service, I returned home to find a solitary figure on the beach in front of my house. My brother’s dog and I watched as she carefully and deliberately selected large rocks from across the beach and carried them to their destination. She was completely unhurried, completely alone and enjoying the quiet, uninterrupted time.
With each rock she would , yet confidently, move to the area where would place it down in line with the others. As she formed a giant cross on the sand, it seemed to be done with loving intention. Occasionally she would pause and examine the work she had done or even appear to be praying or meditating. After about 20 minutes, she rested, at the foot of her creation. It was her time to reflect and rest . . . on what the cross meant to her.
As tears of gratitude filled my eyes, I realized I could only guess what she had been thinking or feeling.
This evening at sunset, after the Easter Sunday visitors, the cross of rocks is still there, gently placed at sunrise and even now unmoved. A reminder of great desire and love.