"Stone" | Reflection by Lilian Revel, Pastoral Care Associate

It rests in the palm of my hand,

cold, hard, heavy.

Gray, with light striations, smooth.

A stumbling block or a starting block?

Satan suggested a loaf of bread;

in the desert the imagination runs wild

and makes anything real.

It was a gift from Iona. I treasure it and ask questions.

Did it come from the beach? How old is it?

Was it ever part of a cairn?

What was fossilized in its innermost?

Did some ancient Celt or Druid hold it in her palm and bless it?

I imagine the waves washing over it

time and time again,

cleansing it of impurities,

bringing new sediment at the same time.

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

I am at peace with my stone, my burden.

The longer I hold it, the more I sense its past

and become one with it,

one with the whole universe.

It still rests in the palm of my hand,

pulsating with my heart, nourishing like bread,

forgiving, warm, radiating the divine,

pouring out its blessings.