In the pitch like darkness of the deep ocean a rumbling of silt and sand occurred.  The slime of refuse gave way to molten rock.  Without approval, a mountain began to grow in the darkness.

The place had been desolate and quiet.  Though it had been a place of gathering for refuse, peacefulness and quiet had attended upon it. But now violence erupted where once there was nothing but filth.  The lord was pleased to cause a new place to grow.  And in his pleasure he spoke growth and life.

Lava forced upward the plate of rock that had once been the bottom of the ocean.  Months of great pressure and violence pushed the plate of rock toward the top of the sea.  Light began to touch the surface of the rock and it cringed at the new world it was being forced to inhabit.  Convulsions shook the plate and the edges curled around its new support.  “I am to perish!  Surely I am dying!”

“What are you doing Oh Lord Great God?  Did I not serve you well in the place where I was?  What is my sin that you should rip me from my rest?”  But the plate heard no reply.

Soon the sound of waves crashing at the edge stirred the plate into near panic.  How deeply it desired to return to its former place.  “This is no place of peace!  It is a place of torture!  What have I done to deserve this horrific uprooting?  Was I not content and faithful to support what the world no longer needed?”  Again, there was no sound from the Living God.  Only the frightening roar of water at the shore.  The tumult threatened to rip the rock apart.

In the years of a rock, very little time passed before the silt upon it top begin to produce.  Shrubs and rough grass filtered in to begin the final transformation.  Seeds had appeared by virtue of the birds who came to visit.  All the while the little island was frightened to see his surface so abused.

As the Island got use to its new place it began to see the beauty of the violence.  The Sun would rise and set, warming the rock in a new place called day.  The moon would bathe him in glorious shimmers; not at all like the darkness he had known.  And the sound of the waves often put him into peaceful sleep.  The wind of God shaped him into smooth and various form.  And the storms which came and went were a wonderous delight of activity.

One day, still a great mystery to the island, an animal set foot on his soil.  With great interest he watched this one.  It was not at all like the others who had come to visit.  Nor was it like those who had been a part of his previous world.  For the first time since his peaceful slumber of filth, the island felt pure joy.

“I like this one Lord.”  The island was heard to say.  “He tickles and scratches at my surface.  And now I am pleased for what you have done.  The pain and memory is receding and now there is joy.”

Centuries passed, and the island was a happy place of thriving life for a multitude of creatures.  What he had been before, he no longer desired to remember.  Joy filled his days and his new place produced great fruit for the Sovereign God who had caused him to be.

“Give thanks to the Lord and be faithful for He is good.  His mercy endures forever!  Be faithful and joy filled.  Give thanks and praise to God.”   The island had come to sing a new song.  “Do not be discouraged at the tumult which now attends your days.  For soon you will be thankful for the violent uprooting.”

By His Grace