What a Sandcastle Has to Do with Faith

I've always liked sandcastles.

Maybe that's because I grew up around the water. Or maybe there's just something about building something out of sand that makes a person stop and enjoy the moment.

You scoop up the sand.

Add a little water.

Build a tower.

Dig a moat.

Stand back and admire your handiwork.

And sooner or later, the tide comes in.

That's the funny thing about sandcastles.

You know from the beginning that they aren't going to last.

And yet we build them anyway.

I think there's something about faith in that.

We spend a great deal of our lives building things. Homes. Careers. Families. Collections of books. Memories. Reputations. Sometimes even carefully constructed ideas about how we think life is supposed to work.

Some things last.

Some don't.

Some disappear much sooner than we expected.

The Bible has something to say about that.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.”
— Matthew 6:19, BSB

Jesus wasn't telling us that the things of this world don't matter.

I don't think so, anyway.

He was reminding us that they aren't permanent.

A sandcastle isn't worthless because the tide will eventually wash it away.

Perhaps that's part of the point.

The children building it aren't usually worried about whether it will still be there next Tuesday. They're enjoying building it today.

There is something wonderfully freeing about that.

We don't have to make everything permanent before we can enjoy it.

We don't have to understand everything before we can be grateful.

We don't have to know exactly where the road ends before taking the next step.

Sometimes faith is simply trusting the One who does know.

I've been thinking about that lately.

At my age, 68 today, I've watched quite a few things come and go. People. Places. Jobs. Possessions. Ideas I once thought were terribly important.

Some things I miss.

Some things I'm glad to have left behind.

And some things I didn't realize were temporary until they were gone.

That's life.

But Christianity tells us that the story doesn't end with everything being washed away.

The Christian hope isn't that we somehow build a sandcastle strong enough to defeat the tide.

It's that God is building something that the tide cannot destroy.

John tells us:

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the former things have passed away.”
— Revelation 21:4, BSB

Now that's a promise worth holding onto.

So why call this place Barry's Sandcastle?

Because I don't expect this little corner of the internet to last forever.

I don't expect every post to be profound.

Some days there may be a devotional.

Some days there may be a song.

I'll review a book or a movie now and then. I'll probably talk about Florida, the weather, old memories, and whatever else catches my attention.

And occasionally I'll probably say something that makes absolutely no sense until I've had another cup of coffee.

That's all right.

It's a sandcastle.

I'm building it because I enjoy building it.

And if someone happens to come along, sit down beside me, and find a little encouragement here, then that's even better.

The tide can take the castle someday.

For now, there's still sand between my toes.

And there's still grace.

So I'll keep building.

And I'll trust God with the tide.