Everyone Needs a Resting Rock

From the time the large faux boulder was delivered and placed ever so gently over the well pump, I have talked about how hideous it was. Not only was it a fake rock, but it was the biggest fake rock I had ever seen. On a hillside full of freshly graded nothing, you could not miss it.

I pondered ideas of how to disguise it, how to make it blend in—from flower beds to seating arrangements. I considered making it a mascot of sorts and giving it themes throughout the year. Does it have a personality? Does it have a purpose? Is it a thinking rock? A meditation rock?

Recently, as I stood looking at it again, wondering, I decided to check out the view from the rock.

Turns out, it’s a resting rock.

As my father-in-law says, “Take time to stop and smell the roses Kid, before you end up looking up at them.” Well, we don’t have roses nearby, but I did appreciate the pause.

From that perch, the hillside didn’t feel so bare. The wind moved differently up there. The quiet felt intentional. What once felt like an eyesore suddenly felt like an invitation—to sit, to notice, to rest before moving on to the next task waiting down the hill.

Maybe the rock did have a purpose after all.

These days, I don’t see a fake rock when I look up the hill. I see a reminder that even in the middle of work, there is value in sitting still for a minute.

Every farm needs a resting rock. Every person probably does too.