Kingdoms Made of Sand
Once I held it in my hand,
it was a kingdom made of sand,
it was a kingdom made of sand,
This lyric, from the old Amy Grant song "So Glad," was the first song I ever accompanied myself with for an audience. I had no idea it would become so significant in my life. Kingdoms made of sand....How am I like the foolish man, building his house on the sand?
I think back to growing up going to the beach, on my knees at the water's edge, surf tickling my feet, sand inside my onepiece suit, sun edging into my exposed back, digging the mote around our castle. Placing shells of protection around the perimeter, lest pirates pillage inside. Only, nothing can protect my castle from the onslaught of a coming wave. A wave of destruction, gathering up the castle and returning it to sea, leaving no trace of its former existence. A safe distance from the tide, but it only takes one. "All Your waves and billows have rolled over me." (Psm. 42:7)
I think of Jesus' parable about the Wise and Foolish builders in regards to the foundations they built upon--Christ being the Rock and our fallen understanding being the Sand. One was clearly wiser to build his house upon a foundation, and one clearly had never been to the beach to see what the tide does, especially in a storm, to structures with no foundation.
However, what about the materials we use to build ON Christ our Rock? Didn't Paul talk about our works being tested with fire? I Cor. 3:11-13 says, "For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. If anyone builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work." So, that which I lay on top of my given foundation can be fruitless. I have a choice.
I am at a crossroads, looking at what I am currently building, that doesn't look like much except endless chores and unresults. Yet, with great peace I pursue these activities, with a song in my heart and lots of kisses to cheeks and bellies and sniffs of glimmering crowns of sandy brown. As I consider an additional choice handed to me, drawn in by it's sparkly exterior and whispers of rich rewards, it fills my nights with restless images and my days with a slight gnawing. The answer seems so simple! Why do I keep going back to tempt myself with it's attractive shell? Is it the lusts of my heart or God giving me a unique opportunity?
Am I a different person now at 40 and can handle an extra responsibility? I'd like to think I don't get so caught up in a project mentally and emotionally that my affections become misplaced. I'd like to think I'm mature enough to segment my duties....hm.....choices....wood, hay, straw, or gold and silver? I don't know. May God lead me into all peace, to keep digging for the gold and silver with which to build fruitfully....How does one know what is under a beautiful exterior until one takes it apart--either gold or wood? Silver or straw? Anyone else struggle with choices? Good vs. better? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Seasons....seasons of our female existence. There is a time for everything.
And I'm so glad,
glad to find the reason that I'm
Happy sad, that You've blown it all away, and I'm
Though it hurts to know I'm leavin'
everything I ever thought that I would be....
Once I held it in my hand
It was KINGDOM MADE OF SAND
but now You've blown it all away
I can't believe that I can say--
That I'm glad......