Singing and Slinging

Up until last month, I’d never really wanted to visit the Holy Land. People who had been there told me it makes the Bible come alive, but the pictures I’d seen made the place look barren. I couldn’t see how standing at a biblical site could compensate for the dust, heat, crowded streets — not to mention the threat of terrorism.

No thanks, I’d always told myself. I get more insights than I can digest from my commentaries and our lively Sunday school class.

But last month gave me reason to repent. I was invited to tour Jordan, a nation that boasts some significant biblical sites — including Mount Nebo (Dt. 32:49), where you can see what Moses saw of The Promised Land just before he died, and the Ravine Kerith (1 Kings 17:3), where Elijah was fed by ravens, and Bethany Beyond Jordan (John 1:28), where John the Baptist lived and baptized. And as a nation, Jordan has enjoyed a comforting absence of terrorism. So I went.

In some ways, my original prejudices were confirmed. It can be hot — 120 degrees when we stopped to see Lot’s Cave just south of the Dead Sea — but evenings cooled off nicely, often into the 60s. It’s dusty — you don’t travel anywhere without your bottle of water.

But other prejudices were shattered. I never felt crowded. Even the streets of Amman, while busy, handled the traffic well. And while driving through the countryside and small towns, you’re impressed by how many Jordanians spontaneously wave at the bus.

Some of those who waved were shepherd boys. Usually alone, a boy perhaps 12 or 14 years old would be standing near a flock of goats or sheep, often in utterly desolate terrain. I wondered how the animals could find enough vegetation to eat among the rocks. Toward evening, we’d see a boy leading the flock back to the tent where his Bedouin family lives.

What does such a boy do all day? There’s not much to do in a rocky wilderness, except look for shade and keep the sheep in view. How does a boy keep himself occupied?

The Bible does provide a clue. One such shepherd boy who grew up not far away, named David, must have spent his time singing songs and throwing rocks. Day after day with the sheep, there would have been lots of time to make up songs. And there certainly was an endless supply of rocks.

Did he ever wonder if he was wasting his time by singing songs and slinging rocks?

Interestingly those two skills, honed by hours of solitary practice while watching sheep, proved crucial in God’s plans for him. His musical abilities were put to the service of a king, the tormented King Saul, and calmed him at least briefly. Later, his musical abilities had a more lasting effect as David penned the Psalms that we still sing and recite.

And the rock throwing? That skill, of course, led to David’s stunning victory over Goliath. The stone slinger emerged as a national hero.

As I traveled the rocky landscape of the Holy Land, I pondered the rocks. They’re everywhere! Easy to complain about, or overlook. Yet for David, they were the raw material that God used mightily.

What are the “rocks” in your life — the things so common you overlook or complain about them, the things you’re all-too-familiar with? As a writer, my “rocks” are sometimes words, so common and yet so powerful. As a father, my “rocks” can be moments with my children. For you maybe they’re phone calls, handshakes, or church bulletins. They’re whatever you have around you in abundance.

Just as God used rocks in the hand of a shepherd, so he can make miraculous use of the overly abundant materials in your life.

Suddenly the empty, rock-strewn landscape I saw around me wasn’t desolate. The stones themselves cried out, testifying to God’s amazing practice of taking the rocky parts of life, and turning them into a tool to change the world.

A glimpse of God at work. Not a bad exchange for some heat and dust.

Marshall Shelley is editor of Leadership. To reply, write Newsletter@LeadershipJournal.net.