I confess: I keep forgetting what an “Ebenezer” is. I deduce from the context that it’s a good thing, and that I need to raise it. Beyond that—I got nothing.Here I raise my Ebenezer:“O Thou Fount of Every Blessing”
Hither by Thy help I’ve come;
And I hope by Thy good pleasure
Safely to arrive at home
“The Stone of Help.” Now I know. And I have some of those. They are markers—physical markers—of spiritual times. Times when God’s presence was so unmistakable that a physical reminder was inevitable. A souvenir. A keepsake. A trophy.
One stone is in the shape of a card on my dresser. Appropriately enough, with a picture of a gushing fountain. Among the words scribbled inside are a prayer: “I’m praying that you will experience the refreshing, living water of our Lord in a mighty way this week!” A Stone of Help.
Another stone is a tiny wisp of fine black hair behind glass on the living room wall. Evidence of God’s loving attentiveness to the smallest detail, even for children only here for an hour. A Stone of Help.
Other stones could be mistaken for yellow sticky notes covering my mirror. Love notes from the Father, through his children, down to me. More stones are thin and round and fit perfectly in a CD player. Music flows round them on an endless circuit of forgiveness and grace. Stone after Stone of Help.
My stack of Ebenezers is high. Tangible tokens of intangible blessings and mercy undeserved. Of help and support invisible. Of love and compassion everlasting.
My Stones of Help. May I remember to remember...
Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen and called its name Ebenezer; for he said, "Till now the LORD has helped us."
~ 1Samuel 7:12
