A Rock and a Hard Place

Last week I was just walking from my car to my office when

a small yellow flower caught my eye. It was really just a little weed which had contrived sprout between the asphalt of the parking lot and the cement of the curb. Yet, the instant I saw it and a common phrase leapt into my mind: “Stuck between a rock and a hard place.” How many times have we heard that in reference to people who find themselves in difficult situations? Here was the personification of that phrase blooming just underfoot. I took the attached photo of that brave little plant with the idea that I’d return to the subject and explore it later. I eventually wrote this poem to accompany the photo and I take the liberty to share it with you today. You might ask why I even care about such an undignified little weed, clinging to such an unlikely spot. Well, truth be told, I have several people in my life right now who resemble that flower. Their circumstances of life have left them feeling like they’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, and they are just trying to find a way to bloom in the midst of difficult situations. Have you ever felt that way, or are you feeling that way even now? Sometimes it seems like life is literally squeezing the life out of us. It could be health or financial issues, family or marriage problems or a host of other things. If you’re there, or know someone who is, I know things can feel pretty overwhelming. I’ve certainly been there myself and I clearly don’t have all the answers, but I do have one answer. Jesus. By all means listen to the doctors, see a financial advisor, confide in wise friends and be willing to seek professional counseling if it’s warranted … and maybe think about praying as well. It sounds so cliché, but Jesus really does love you. Whoever we are and wherever we gotten ourselves, He’s ready to meet us right where we are and help us through life. Are you stuck between a rock and a hard place? Good news … Jesus knows just what that feels like, and he’s no stranger to that address. So, once again, maybe think about praying. Those first words can be a little awkward, but they open up your heart to the comfort and strength of a loving God. Feel free to reach out to me as well. My email is fcarpenter505@gmail.com . Don’t give up hope, and remember that little flower in the desolation of the parking lot by my office. Even if you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, you can still find a way to bloom.

A Rock and a Hard Place

Sometimes it seems we’re out of options

Like the tide is rising over us

When we’re overwhelmed and feeling hopeless

It shakes our faith and makes it hard to trust

When we find our backs are up against a wall

Drained of joy and peace and even grace

And we can’t see a path to a solution

Stuck between a rock and a hard place

In that moment when we’re lost and desperate

And we can’t imagine there is a way out

Jesus meets us right where we are stranded

To melt away our brokenness and doubt

He bears the burden of the broken hearted

Forgives what seemed so unforgivable

Loves us with a love beyond conception

And pours himself into us till we’re full

If you feel between a rock and hard place

Take heart, friend, and take the time to pray

God will meet you right where you are standing

And walk with you each step along the way

                               By Frank Carpenter ©

Seaside Solace

I have had occasion of late to revisit the subject of grief. Since I am no stranger to that bitter friend it often figures prominently in my own writings, whether they involve my personal experiences or those shared with others. My most recent foray down the more difficult side of memory lane led me to some observations which had not previously occurred to me. I wrote those previous three sentences several hours ago, intending to explore this subject and conclude with the poem below entitled “Seaside Solace,” which I penned after my father’s passing a few years ago. Strangely, just as I sat down this evening complete these thoughts I received a phone call informing me that my father’s oldest and dearest friend had passed away last week. This comes as a somewhat disconcerting coincidence, in the very midst of my little essay on grief. I suppose, at the very least, that it serves to make my words all the more poignant this evening. So among other things, this will serve as a tribute to Lou Pappan as well.

As I mull over this most recent turn of events, we will return to the point of my original observations. In times of grief we tend to turn to areas of passion in our lives to help us deal with heartache and pain. We find comfort in that which we find most familiar, especially if those things are natural stress relievers for us. Each of us is wired differently so we tend to respond to varying occupational therapies. Some folks look to music or art, others to exercise or reading. Some people crave relationship while others seek solitude to work out their feelings. It can come as no surprise that grief, like so many other issues, drives me to write. That is because I think slowly and find it comforting to work out my feelings on paper. I believe it was the author E.M. Forester who once wrote, “How can I know what I think until I see what I said?” Those words capture beautifully the therapeutic value of the written word for those like me who use it to come to terms with their own thoughts and feelings. My heart is also deeply wrapped up in the ocean, which I find to be utterly relaxing and inspirational. No wonder, then, that after my own father’s passing I found myself down at the shore penning the words of the poem which I offer you today. Perhaps it can be a comfort to others as well.

In closing, I encourage each of you to consider carefully what your areas of passion and interest are. These are the things to turn to when you have need of comfort in your own life. Sometimes it helps to have our hands or minds occupied while God is working on our hearts. Even when there seems to be no joy we can still find peace through our passions. I wish you all the best today and encourage you to send this on to others if you know people who could use these words of comfort. I also leave you with a photo from my own recent beach wanderings.

Seaside Solace
I brought my grief-stricken heart to the ocean
Back to my favorite of places once more
Carried it down to the water’s edge
And laid it gently upon the shore
To let the cool, cleansing sea
Begin to dissolve the plaque of despair
While the ageless motion of the waves
Washed away the silt of care
Letting the music of the surf
Flow through the deepest parts of me
Until solace ebbed within my heart
And sorrow drifted out to sea
By Frank Carpenter ©