God’s second purpose in creating this river was....and I say this humbly, but with a certain degree of certainty...his second purpose in creating it was to give it to me. I do not claim the whole river as mine but, I am convinced, that a five or six mile stretch was carved by the finger of the Creator for me. This section that I have declared as mine was claimed as one of the world’s most perfect playgrounds by countless kids who grew up along its banks. The cliffs along the river were arranged as a massive jungle gym. It’s as if the trees that bring beauty to the river’s banks were constructed to be climbed, created forests to be explored and provided the material for forts to be built. The river itself was the perfect swimming pool as well as the ideal place to idle away an afternoon sitting on its banks with a Zebco rod and reel trying to catch fish.
As mentioned, generations of kids would claim the Kettle River as their own. While I would be among that group, my rationale for God creating this particular section of the river for me comes from my adult years. It is along the muddy waters of that river where I have had some of my deepest and most intimate times of fellowship with the God of creation. It is in that place, more than any other, that God becomes Abba to me. It is there, among the beauty and solitude, that my spirit touches the fringes of eternity and God’s Spirit touches the deepest part of my being. I have written before of the request I have made to the Father that I be put in charge of these few miles of the Kettle River when this era ends but I leave that in His hands. (Lessons from Abby and Hunter)
It is along this river where, more than a century ago, sandstone rock was quarried and used to construct buildings locally as well as around the state. Workers would carve the stone from cliffs surrounding the river, cut them into slabs and ship them via train to wherever they were needed. Once at the building site, stone masons would contour and mold the stones to fit properly together, and construct extremely solid and durable structures. Even the base of the Minnesota State capital was built from sandstone rock taken from this particular quarry.
As I walk this stretch of river, I pass rock that was cut and prepared for transport probably fifty years before I was born but, for one reason or another, never made it out of the quarry. These stones have sat for decades waiting to be used in buildings that will never be built.
As I walked past piles of these unused slabs of sandstone rock last fall, I was reminded of the rock used to build the temple King David designed and King Solomon built. I think of the stones that were used to build God’s house in Jerusalem, and recall the scripture which describes the treatment of those stones:
“When the house was built, it was with stone prepared at the quarry, so that neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron was heard in the house while it was being built” 1 Kings 6:7 (ESV)
The painstaking work that must have gone into the preparation of these special stones is awe inspiring. In the quarry, they were carefully chosen, chiseled, molded and formed to perfectly fit together. Some would be part of the wall, some used as arches, some foundational and others would perform various functions in this temple designed by King David.
The stonecutter went to the mountain where he would cut out huge chunks of rock from the quarry. Then, using King David’s plan, he would begin to strike the blob of stone with a hammer, crudely forming the desired shape. Perhaps he used other iron tools and instruments to mold and form the rock into the precise shape it needed to be to fulfill its role in the construction of the temple. When the ringing of the hammer and chisel had quieted. When the last sounds of the final bits of molding gave way to silence, the stone was carried to the temple, and perfectly fit into the area it was designed to fill.
My mind then wandered to the Apostle Peter’s words:
“As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For it stands in Scripture: “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious, and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.”
1 Peter 2:4-6 (ESV)
I do not know what my Father’s heavenly temple will look like, but he has had the design from eternity, and in that I find rest. I rest, as well, in the assurance that I am one of his living stones being prepared for my Abba’s spiritual house. I realize that as I walk through this life, I am walking through the Creator’s quarry. And I find peace among the noise of life knowing that, like a skilled stonecutter, He is chiseling and molding me into a living stone that will fit perfectly into his eternal spiritual house.
So I trust myself to the Master Stonecutter, longing for the day when the noise of the chiseling grows dimmer, and the sound of the molding gives way to silence. The day when my time in this quarry will end, and I will be carried to my Father’s heavenly temple, and perfectly fit into the area I was designed to fill.
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