Safety in the Cleft

In the center of the state of Georgia is an unincorporated town with the name, “The Rock.” Interesting label, don’t you think? The name is credited to Dr. James Anderson, who lived in the area in the early 1800’s. The mail at this time was delivered by stagecoach. Dr. Anderson, speaking with the stage coach driver and pointing to a nearby cleft in a rock, said, “Put my mail in that hole.” Soon, everyone in the community was riding up by horseback or buggy to retrieve their mail from this protected cavern in the rock. Over the years, it became enough to address mail to a recipient at “The Rock”, Georgia and it would be received.

We don’t hear the word, “cleft” used so much anymore. Probably the most well known use of it is in the popular hymn lyrics – rock of ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee. And there is the mention of it in Exodus 33 when God puts Moses in “the cleft of the rock” and covers him with His hand while he passes by so that His face would not be seen.

My hiding place when I was growing up wasn’t in a rock, but on a log that trans versed the Calamus River (a stream, really) on the other side of the sheep pasture. Anytime I desired to be alone, I would head for the log. One bank of the river kept me hidden from the house; the other from the occasional traveler on the road. Even today, that sweet memory is so strong and comforting in my mind, that when I crave solitude and meditation time, I am drawn to sit on one of several benches that line Spearfish Creek in the City Park. The fast moving, clear water blocks out any park noises from behind me.

Whether our “hiding place” is in a rock or beside a stream, or any number of safe places we might go to, as believers it is really Jesus that is our safe place. Psalm 18:2 says it so well. The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety. We really do not need a place to go to find Him; He’s accessible wherever we are. As I enjoy my senior years, I’m thankful that he’s just as accessible in my recliner as He is on the bench by the creek.

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.