Tip of My Iceberg

There’s something about water that begs for rock pitching.

Awhile back, I was out out in our yard with three-year-old Ryken. We’ve a pond behind our home where the grands catch fish, turtles and hassle the ducks. One of Ryken’s favorite past times is throwing rocks into the pond. The bigger the plop, the greater the satisfaction.

“I wanna be a big rock.” He pouched out his tummy and held his arms wide. He wanted to make a big splash.

There’s pleasure in the splash. The small waves kicked up by the impact change with the size of the rock and the force with which it’s thrown.

Big rocks make big splashes.

When we were little, my twin sister and I got to go fishing early one morning with Dad and a cousin. It meant rising at 4 in the morning to head to a special spot that Dad loved to fish.

We couldn’t sleep the night before so getting up was no problem. We had breakfast at a truck stop–big fluffy pancakes. And when we finally arrived at the fishing hole, the sun was just coming up.

Dad was a serious fisherman. Gayle and I were not. We were left with worms, one already on each of our hooks, and instructions not to make a lot of noise.

We were fine–till I caught a small sunfish with the hook through its eye and cried for Dad to come save it. Not a happy fisherman, he saved the fish and told us not to scream for him again.

So we threw rocks into the water.

We tried skipping them like we’d seen Dad do. Couldn’t. So we plopped rocks. And laughed ourselves silly.

We watched the ripples the rocks made. Rings of gently flowing water that moved out from the center, becoming less pronounced the further they moved from the source.

We all make our own splashes. We choose our impact.

The impact left by the young gunman who killed 17 people in Parkland just south of us was ugly. Its effects will be felt for decades to come as families and friends live without loved ones.

The impact left by Billy Graham was positive with eternal consequences. He spoke of hope, love and forgiveness in Jesus. The effects of his ministry were a broad splash of healing and help for the hurting.

I often act like my life is lived apart from its effect on others. That my decisions and actions don’t impact anyone other than me.

How wrong I am.

Here’s the funny thing. The good we do may be overlooked. Acts of random kindness by anonymous folks happen all the time. We may not be recognized for the positive things we do.

The bad, however, always has a way of coming back to bite us. Our bad attitudes, actions, selfish behavior are seen, experienced. They leave a lasting imprint.

We choose what kind of splash we want to make. God knows each of our hearts and sees our motives.

Me? I wanna be a big rock. Clean splash zone required.