Life Stones: The Ammunition Needed to Overcome the Giants in Your Life

By Rick Harris

Relates to all age groups from teens to seniors

Presents principle concepts such as friendship, repentance, and excellence from a biblical perspective rather than a world-defined one

Provides life illustrations that are related to easily, honestly, and humorously

Each chapter provides a biblical lesson with additional Scriptural references and practical discussion questions at the end of each chapter

Easily adaptable for a Sunday School class, small group Bible study, one-on-one mentoring relationship, or personal edification

• Language: English
• Publisher: Morgan James Faith
• Release date: Feb 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781642797282

Rick Harris

RickHarris was born and raised in Iowa and currently resides in Cranston, Rhode Island. Rick began his baseball research and writing career in 1992. He has authored "Rhode Island Baseball: the Early Years, " published by The History Press in 2008, and "Brown University Baseball: A Legacy of the Game, " published by the History Press in 2012. He has presented at numerous baseball research conferences, provided countless public talks, written many articles and made several appearances on local TV news shows.

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Preface

The lessons of this book were largely revealed to me during the two years my wife and I served at the Alliance Mission Home in Bangkok, Thailand. We accepted the call to overseas missions at a time of life most are slowing down and staying put. Our unconventional choice was rewarded with the fullness that comes through serving and obeying. It also gifted us with many memories we cherish. As I think back on our time there, I see all the Holy Spirit was teaching me through our everyday life in a foreign land.

Though we are now back in the States, our time in Thailand and the lessons we received are still front of mind for me. At times, I’ll write of events as if they are happening. In fact, some chapters were written while still in Asia. Other portions were written from memory and are in past tense. I see this as an appropriate way to write about a God who is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Heb. 13:8). Each time I relive a memory, I have both a past recollection of events and a present insight into how much God still has to teach me, though I’ve served Him forty years and counting. I hope these stories, these stones, will prove helpful to you now and in the future. For truly, we serve a God unbound by space and time.

Introduction

We had worked hard for a month, my two friends and I. But the finished product was worth it. We now had our very own tree house. It was located in a black walnut tree just over an old wire fence that separated the back of our property from the woods. We never knew who owned those woods. It had to be someone who lived across the pastures behind them and on the next road west of us. During all of our childhood years, we never saw anyone else in those woods—just us. It was a special place, almost magical, where we could be cowboys one day or Indians the next or special-ops from the army the day after that.

We selected the black walnut tree because of its huge limb that forked into two other large branches. At the fork, we started laying the boards we had collected. The floor was about six square feet, and we only had to build sidewalls on three sides because the trunk provided protection on the fourth side. Now, calling them walls might be an overstatement. Barriers might be closer to the truth. But they would keep enemy projectiles from entering, whether they were imaginary bullets or arrows or knives or spears.

The tree house was about ten feet above the ground, and a hole in the floor allowed one to raise or lower himself through. From the top rung of the old ladder we had built, you could reach up to the hole and pull yourself through. We would have built the ladder longer, but we didn’t have any longer boards. We thought this was for the best anyway—you had to be pretty spry to span the four-foot divide, which would keep things like girls and mothers away.

We stockpiled walnuts inside to use as ammunition should any unsavory characters decide to come by, like renegades and outlaws and foreign spies. We weren’t prepared, however, for the neighborhood bully.

He was everything you would imagine a bully to be. He was older than us and bigger. He used bad words out loud—when an adult wasn’t around, of course. He had watched us during the building process and taunted us unmercifully. One day, after it was completed, he hid from our view and waited. Although the project was almost done, we had one final detail to iron out. We determined that we needed a rope that could be used to climb down from the tree house in case the ladder fell over. When we left to see if we could locate a rope, he sprang into action. He scaled the ladder and infiltrated our tree house. He shouted his victory loud enough for us to return to see what had happened. As we approached, he lobbed our walnuts at us as we objected to his being there. He continued to chide us and lob walnuts—until an idea arose. As my two friends returned fire with the walnuts our intruder had thrown, I made a dash to the tree and pulled the ladder away.

A momentary silence fell as our enemy realized what had just happened. He then cursed and threatened, heaving more walnuts. Now, one of the tactical problems we realized about the tree house after it was completed was the fact that you can’t effectively wind up and throw hard or very far. Nope, the branches above impeded the throw, and the sides were an obstruction that didn’t allow a good follow-through. You couldn’t get much power into a throw. And when our bully realized this, he wanted to stop. He wanted to be friends. He had just been kidding around, he said. He was willing to forget the whole thing. He just wanted the ladder to be put back so he could go home.

Yes, we were kids, but we weren’t stupid kids. We knew that walnuts wouldn’t be the best line of defense in the treehouse. We had found that weakness on our own. And who would want a treehouse you can’t defend? What we did discover was that a slingshot worked quite well from the tree house.

While our antagonist was making his case, I ran to the barn and found my slingshot. After a glance at the limestone covering the driveway, my gaze fastened on two perfect projectiles. I picked them up on the run, and I got back while he was offering his closing remarks. The three of us formulated our plan. We told him that we would put the ladder back up if he would leave. He agreed, but we didn’t believe him. One of my friends raised the ladder. The bully slowly slid out of the hole, his feet searching for the top rung. That’s when I placed the stone in the leather cradle, pulled back with all my might, and let it fly.

The stone caught him square in the thigh. My other friend let go with a bevy of walnuts. Two or three of them found their mark before our foe frantically scampered back up into the treehouse.

His voice was now changed. Pleading. Whimpering. Almost crying. He was begging now. He promised never to come back again. Ever. We offered him one last chance. One of my friends repositioned the ladder. The other held three walnuts ready for launch. I loaded the second stone. He moved slowly while pleading with each step. As soon as he hit the ground, he took off as if he had been shot out of a cannon. He never did return. Ever.

We were a bit surprised it was that easy. We began recounting the story of our daring deed. Our bravery increased with each telling. During my rendition, I recounted where I had been when I let that stone fly. It had probably been a twenty-foot shot. I traced its flight in my mind and judged how far out of the treehouse our enemy had come. As my mind reflected on the shot, my eye fastened upon a grayish orb in the grass below. The stone was now lying at the bottom of the tree. I picked it up. And, as we made our way back toward the barn, I placed it back in the leather cradle and let it fly. It landed somewhere in the driveway among the million or so other limestone rocks. It landed to be forgotten. A rock. Almost a non-entity. Why waste time thinking about it?

And I didn’t . . . for almost six decades.

Sixty years later, I was given an assignment to travel to Bangkok, Thailand, to rescue an old guest house that had fallen on hard times. It might’ve been allowed to die a slow death except it was a vital and strategic place for international workers and mission organizations to stay while seeking medical services, documentation needs, or simple rest and relaxation. It served a lot of people throughout Southeast Asia. In the fog of memory, a vision crystalized. The mission home was a safe haven. It was a place to relax and rest and escape the onslaught of life, if only for a brief time. It was a place of trees and grass and birds in the midst of asphalt and concrete and people. It was a special place. It was like a treehouse I had built with neighborhood friends a long time ago.

My thoughts reflected upon the similarities that we all experience in life. Even sixty years later, bullies and giants still exist. We meet giants in the form of disappointments, hurts, heartaches, and failures of all sizes. Bullies may not seem as devastating, but they can keep us from enjoying life as the Lord Jesus has meant it to be: Besetting sin. Irritating work associates. Frustrating circumstances. Daily stress.

Stones still come in handy with these—not necessarily to defend a treehouse against a neighborhood bully but to defend us in the midst of life’s ongoing challenges. I began musing about the stones God provides for His followers in Jesus Christ. In the midst of Bangkok, the Big Mango, a metropolitan center of ten million people, I began putting together a list of Life Stones.

Stones play a significant role in the Bible. In Joshua 8:32, Joshua wrote the Law of Moses on stones. Of course, God set the precedent when He gave the Ten Commandments on tablets of stone. Stones were used in building the Temple. Stones were used to mark boundaries. and build altars. One of the definitions the Merriam-Webster Dictionary provides for stones says a stone is a piece of rock with a specified function. Stones are just rocks with a purpose. Life Stones have a purpose. Something will be accomplished by them. That rock in the driveway sixty years ago was just a rock—until I picked it up and positioned it in the leather cradle of my slingshot. Then it had a purpose. Rocks are rocks. Stones are ammunition.

Everyone knows the story of David and Goliath. People that know little else about the Bible know that story. The story is found in its entirety in 1 Samuel 17. The Philistines had mocked God and abused His people for so long that this battle was inevitable. The problem was, however, that Israel didn’t have anybody up for the challenge—until David showed up. When it was determined that David would be the one to defend Israel, the cowardly Saul offered the use of his personal armor. David tried it on, but he then rejected it. It didn’t fit him. So David returned to what he knew to be effective. He took his shepherd’s staff in hand, stopped by the creek, picked up five smooth stones, and placed them in his shepherd’s bag.

David would be as prepared as he could be. He took plenty of stones with him. We usually have more than one giant to fight. One stone is rarely sufficient. Like David, we will need plenty of ammunition as well. Some giants may fall easier than others. You never know. Stock up.

My wife, Pat, was such an integral part of my adventure in Thailand. Together we realized that God wasn’t finished with us. He had other things for us to experience in our quest for Christlikeness. God never does things haphazardly. He always has a purpose. Thailand was vital in God’s purpose for our life. It was there that we were pulled away from our comfort zone, with all of the support structures and encouraging friends and pastoral amenities gone.

Have you ever visited a large water park? Wild water slides twist and turn while you plummet down a hillside. Large waterfalls drench you. And, typically, a lazy river carries you leisurely along as the world goes by. We had grown accustomed to the lazy river. It’s easy to do. After a while, you put enough sermons together, get enough experience in running a meeting, shake enough hands and pat enough backs, and end up on a rubber tube floating down a lazy river. God was determined that we get back on the giant water slide. Thailand was the giant water slide. Our old friends were gone. Our old schedule was gone. Our language was gone. Our family was gone. Our house and things were gone. But God remained.

With the backdrop of a gentle and gracious people in a place referred to as the Land of Smiles, I enumerated a number of stones God chooses to use in the process of growing us up in our faith and developing the image of Christ in us to provide a witness for a lost and dying world to see. You probably won’t have to leave the life you know. But you might. Dealing with God, you just never know. My challenge to you is to strap on your shepherd’s bag. Grab your slingshot. And pick up a lot of stones. And deal with whatever giant it is that you are facing.

Chapter 1

The Second Impression Stone

When a piece of ground is being readied to build a new church, the pastor of the church tends to show up each day to check for new progress. Trees are toppled. Large sheets of dirt are lifted and rolled by the heavy equipment. Piles of soil are positioned here and there to make a large, flat surface. Huge boulders, hidden for centuries, are unveiled and evaluated, the biggest kept for landscaping décor. The scene changes from day to day as the site is prepared for the building to come.

Such was the scene as we entered a building program in our first ministry in Indiana over forty years ago. I would meander across the land each day with the smell of fresh dirt hanging in the air. I would notice the collection of large boulders and usually toss a rock or two at one of the big piles of dirt. I was ever on the lookout for the right rock, whatever a right rock might look like. The smaller rocks were numerous, having been brought to the surface in the freshly plowed terrain.

On one of my daily visits, I was stepping through the recent excavation area that would eventually be paved to provide a parking lot for the new church. In the meantime, rocks were everywhere. These rocks and dirt piles provided fodder for the creative imaginations of the kids who visited the site with their parents. The kids had quite a talent for transforming those rocks into stones. A good imagination can do that. Could you hit the boulder that had been dug up and saved for a landscaping ornament? Of course, landscaping ornaments weren’t in the children’s mind at all.

I recall talk among those kids about a wild animal of some sort lurking behind that big boulder. However, a well-placed stone could keep the enemy at bay and keep those unaware of the danger safe. I learned from my young friends that a bigger stone, more round than flat, was best for this. The parents will probably never know about all of the times their children had kept them safe from such difficulties.

On another occasion, if I have the story straight, an old stone would be used to hit a discarded soda can on top of a dirt mound. To the untrained eye, it was just a pile of dirt and an old soda can. But to the trained eye of a ten-year-old, it was the telescope of an alien encampment just behind that dirt pile. For this, a smaller stone held by the thumb and first two fingers was best. It could even be a bit flatter than the missile previously needed for wild animals, according to my young experts. A direct hit would surely discourage any further attempt by aliens considering an invasion on this sacred land.

During an extremely hot and dry stretch of that summer, the dirt mound dried out, providing an entirely new arena. The kids found out that just by hitting the dried dirt with an old stone, little wisps of dust (or smoke) would waft into the air. It gave the effect as if something had exploded there. For maximum effectiveness, the larger the stone, the bigger the dust cloud. Of course, in their minds, something had exploded, if the marshmallows were dirty. Did you know that if you place nice, clean marshmallows on a dirt pile, you can make them dirty just by getting close with your throw? All you need is a partly used package of marshmallows, which obviously nobody wanted because there were still some left, right? That’s the exhilarating logic of a twelve-year-old. I learned a lot about stones that summer—and the thought processes of alien invaders and wild animals.

I found myself looking at rocks that summer. The kids had conditioned me to be attentive as I walked through the site. One day, with no intent of throwing stones, I was hurrying across the site when my peripheral vision caught a glimpse of, well, something; I guessed it was a rock of sorts. I wasn’t focused on throwing but was hurrying to speak with one of the workers. I took a few steps beyond it. But in those few steps and in the scant second or two, somehow its image lingered. I considered what I’d seen. It was flat, but two of the sides were identical, like a triangle. It wasn’t smooth but had been chiseled evenly—almost methodically—a long time ago. It was an arrowhead! And I had passed it by. I quickly retraced my steps. My eyes were flashing here and there, looking—no, scanning. I was trying to see everything and not miss anything. And in a moment, I saw it! A beautiful arrowhead.

At first glance, nothing about it warranted a second look. But something stuck that caused me to go back and look again. And in doing so, I made the discovery of the day. That was over four decades ago, just a year or so into my first pastorate. But I learned a lesson that has served me well ever since, a lesson that has been stated many different ways: Don’t judge a book by its cover. Or You never get a second chance to make a first impression. True, but your first impression may not be the right one. And that book cover may not be an accurate portrayal of what is actually inside. Did that movie trailer ever persuade you to invest your hard-earned money and two hours of your life in a real bomb? Perhaps our first impression is rarely the right one.

How many things in your life do you now like or love or appreciate that, on the first occasion you experienced it, you vowed never to try it again? Many things in my life that I truly like now, and even enjoy, I didn’t care for the first time around. Oh, yes, some