Four Little Rocks

Were it not for four little rocks I probably wouldn't be walking. Those little pebbles are the only motivation system I have found that works. My walking is a necessity. It helps keep my metal hips moving the way they are supposed to be. Regardless of whether any weigh is lost, I feel invigorated and healthy for the effort I make.

Every morning I wake up early, get dressed in the dark, grab my hat and my shoes with the dried grass on them, and head out the front door. There at the top of the steps, waiting for me are my four little stones.

I put on my shoes and pocket the rocks in my right pocket. Then I begin my walk. Down the driveway, through the quiet dawn with the faint music of awakening birds for company, I go. The now almost head-high Rose of Sharon bushes stand like mile-posts at Kitty Hawk, marking my progress as I head towards the road and the empty mailbox. A quick turn at the end and I begin my journey back, step by step, over the crunching rocks beneath my feet.

At long last I am back where I began. As I make a sweeping turn to repeat my journey I take one little rock from my right pocket and put it in my left pocket. It's my mark of triumph, an accomplishment duly noted by no one other than myself.

Who said it is the little things in life that fill it with importance?

I repeat my driveway runs over and over, up and down, back and forth. They begin to run together, they all look alike. The only thing that separates the laps, one from another, are the thoughts that go through my head. How many prayers are said for those I love; how many plans are created, or strategies for success or failure? How much asking God to show me my purpose is done during these morning walks? A lot, too much, too little, not enough?

I get lost in my private thoughts while my feet continue to move... left, right, left, right. Suddenly I realize I don't know how long I've been walking, which lap am I on.... then I check my right pocket. There's only one more rock left. I've been counting all along.