Releasing the Rocks

By Polly Payne 

In April 2025, I flew to Scotland to begin a nine-day spiritual pilgrimage I had been planning for over a year.

I knew I needed sacred time to process so many things. The year before, when my spiritual director first announced the pilgrimage, I had just found out I was pregnant. It was a surprise potential third baby, and I was excited and nervous and already imagining what life might look like the following year. I decided I could not go to Scotland because I would be having a baby.

But sadly, the baby did not happen.

Then, in a way that still feels so tender and kind, my spiritual director—her name is Amy—happened to be in town on the day after my sad news. Her family dropped her off at my house and we had a cup of tea slowly and talked. We talked about the pilgrimage, and I remember saying, “You know what? I think going to Scotland next year  could be a really beautiful thing for me to do.”The pilgrimage could offer a hopeful joy to look forward to and also a sacred time to process the grief of loss I was sitting in. 

Often with grief, there is no “convenient” time to really process it, especially as a mom with two young kids. Life just keeps moving. Snacks still have to be packed. Laundry still has to be folded. Businesses still have to run. People still need you.

So I signed up.

By the time the following April came, I had worked my tail off to prepare my business, my team, my family, and childcare so I could take nine days away. Nine days to soak in the love of God. Nine days to process whatever the Lord had for me.

But as soon as we took off across the pond, news of a tariff war hit. It threatened to deeply impact my decade-old business, Horacio Printing, along with my secondary business where I teach women how to print and manufacture beautiful paper goods. I was devastated. And I was alone. What if everything I built gets taken away from me?

Suddenly the grief was coming from every angle. There was the grief I expected to process, but there was also grief from things happening in my family, my marriage, my business, and now my own identity. It felt like everything was crumbling while I was on a once-in-a-lifetime trip. We boarded a train from Glasgow to Oban, and our trip started. Amy handed out a workbook, and it was time to lock in. I knew Amy was busy holding the weight of guiding all the women on this journey, but I interrupted her on the train to ask for a one-on-one session. She said she would make time in the week. By the time we reached the ferry to sail from mainland Scotland to the Isle of Mull, she asked if we could tuck away to a corner of the boat and if I wanted to meet now.

I agreed with tears in my eyes. She smiled back with a tender, knowing smile. She must have felt my urgency. As we sailed away from the coast of Oban, heading into the brisk sea, we started to peel back the layers of grief. I confronted and finally spoke all of my fears out loud. We processed the worst-case scenarios. What if everything I had built changed? What if it all goes away? Who am I without this? Who am I without my business? How will I face tomorrow?

And somewhere in that honest unraveling, I realized something.

No matter what happened, I was going to be okay. It might be wildly painful, but I would live. 

I am still me. I am still loved by God. God is still with me. He still goes before me.

That did not take away the grief. But it reminded me I was held.

The pilgrimage continued. We traveled across the Isle of Mull, and finally, by another ferry, reached the Isle of Iona. Iona is often called a "thin place"; a place where the presence of God feels especially near. And I can tell you, it really did feel that way.

The island was beautiful, rugged, and peaceful. The rough force of nature there almost demanded presence. Before breakfast every morning, we had a communion with our church’s minister who lived on-site with us, Father Rod. We shared meals together and stayed in a bishop’s house with tiny rooms, twin beds, and sinks tucked into our room. It was simple and sacred.

One day, we took a hike to Columba’s Bay. It is a beach filled with stones and rocks. Our tour guide told us to look for Iona marble, beautiful green stones hidden among the others. She also invited us to choose rocks that represented anything we wanted to release, and then throw them into the ocean.

I started looking for rocks like a child. Honestly, I thought my kids would think it was cool if I brought some home. So I bent over, hunched near the clear Scottish water, and began filling my pockets.

Eventually, I wandered over to a stone prayer labyrinth. It spiraled into the center, and people were quietly walking through it, praying and listening for God. I saw some of them leave rocks in the middle.

When it was my turn, I started walking and praying, “God, what should I do? I don’t know what to do.” I kept taking slow steps while and stilling my heart and mind. 

Then I sensed the Holy Spirit whisper, “Reach into your pockets and grab your rocks.”

I thought, That is odd.

I also wondered how many rocks I had collected. Maybe ten? Maybe fifteen?

But when I reached into my deep jacket pockets, I found over fifty rocks! My hands were full. My pockets were heavy.

And I laughed. God has a sense of humor. 

“Oh my gosh,” I thought. “This is so much more than I realized.”

Then I sensed the Lord whisper, “Yes. You have picked up so many things I never called you to carry. This weight does not belong to you. You were never called to carry these.”

Tears welled up in my eyes because I knew it was true.

I was carrying so much weight: so many expectations and responsibilities, the success or failure of other people, outcomes I could not control, burdens I had quietly picked up because I was capable. 

Just because you are capable does not mean you are called to carry it.

I walked back down to the shore and pulled every rock out of my pockets. I laid them on a large boulder by the sea. I kept a few of my favorite rocks to bring home, then I grabbed the rest in both hands and threw them into the ocean.

Crash.

Goodbye.

One of the heaviest rocks in my pocket that day was not actually a rock. It was my phone.

There is so much we pick up from our phones: news, messages, opinions, images, devastation, other people’s urgencies and emotions. The weight of the whole world can sit in our hands before we even finish breakfast.

I desperately wanted to throw my phone into the ocean that day.

I did not.

But I did walk back to our house lighter, with rain misting on my face, sheep along the green path, and a rainbow beginning to appear in the sky.

I left something there that day. On that shore. 

Those few rocks I kept now live on my desk. Before business meetings, I often hold one in my hand as a reminder. I do not have to carry someone else’s rocks. As a leader, I can delegate, empower, and teach. With my students, I can guide and encourage. But I am not in charge of their success. In my marriage and my family, I can pray and then surrender what I cannot control.

Psalm 55:22 says, “Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you.”

Jesus also told us in John 16:33, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

God never promised we would not have trouble. But He did promise we would not have to carry it alone.

He is a Promise Keeper.

I am still learning. I still struggle with rocks in my pocket, especially the glowing one called my phone. I am not perfect. But I am living lighter.

So I ask you, friend, what rocks have you picked up that God never asked you to carry?

Maybe it is fear. Maybe it is control. Maybe it is someone else’s expectation. Maybe it is the future. Maybe it is grief you have not had time to name.

Sit with Jesus. Ask Him what rocks are in your pockets.

Then lay them at His feet.

He will carry you.

He will sustain you.

You are loved.

Polly Payne

Polly Payne is the founder and CEO of Horacio Printing, a luxury stationery company dedicated to creating beautiful paper products that help people live with greater purpose and intention. Since launching her first Dream Planner in 2014,

Horacio Printing has served more than 55,000 customers and donated over $100,000 to A21 to help fight human trafficking.

Polly is also the creator of Print School, where she has helped hundreds of aspiring entrepreneurs bring their own books, journals, planners, and paper products to life. Through her teaching, speaking, and writing, she encourages others to dream boldly, embrace creativity, and faithfully pursue the work God has placed on their hearts.

Polly lives on Lookout Mountain, Georgia, with her husband and two children, where she enjoys painting, gardening, and creating a life centered on faith, family, and meaningful work.