Yesterday I was delighted to see a large group of folks at Asilomar beach building sandcastles. As you can see from this one, they were quite imaginative! I thought to myself - hmmm, they're below high-tide line - I wonder if they know? So it was no surprise to me this morning when I found no evidence of the sandcastle village. Not even the slightest bump. The tide had created a fresh surface, ready for whatever today brings.
When we build sandcastles, we know they won't last. Even if we build them above the high-tide mark, time, wind, unexpectedly high surf, or a curious toddler will destroy them. Does that mean we don't love them or pour our creativity into them, because of the joy they bring us as we build and then admire even for a short time? Of course not! And are we upset when the expected happens? Usually not too much (unless it's one's sibling destroying it before it's even finished...).
I wonder what would happen if we had this same attitude toward all things that we build? We know that nothing lasts forever - nothing made by humans, anyway. Even things humans build "for God." Temples, cathedrals, churches. How might we change our mindset so that when the tides of time sweep away what has been built, we can look with fresh eyes at a new surface and engage our joy and creativity in building something new?