Building a Fabulous Sandcastle Part 1
Time Together
The remnants of our sandcastle after a rough night
Matt 18:5: "And whoever receives and accepts and welcomes
one little child like this for My sake and in My name
receives and accepts and welcomes Me." AMP
"Tomorrow I will help you build a sandcastle."
My two sons stared at me, jaws drooping nearly to their
sandals. "You will?"
It was our last camping trip of the summer, and my wife's
love of nature and the love the rest of us shared for the
beach brought us to Rock Point Provincial Park, where there
is a beautiful balance of both. However, someone had
apparently forgotten to tell those who regulate my wife's
activities at work that she was officially "on vacation",
and she was scheduled to go to Toronto the next day for
work-related business. This meant that I had the full
responsibility of "entertaining" the boys, and I was busy
putting together a "plan"! I figured that building a
sandcastle together would be just the thing to fill our
time! I don't know what kind of a response I had expected,
but certainly not disbelief!
The day arrived, and my wife left for Toronto. The boys
attended an organized camp activity in the morning (fossil
hunting), and while they were gone, I worked on the class
schedule that I had received the previous day. Then we had
our lunch, and after packing up plastic buckets and a
variety of other intriguing (and sandy!) toys, we soon found
our way to the beach.
But when I kneeled down on the sand and started to fill a
buck with wet sand, my boys were so amazed, they just sat
there for several minutes with their mouths hanging open.
Again, to my shame, I suddenly realized that the only time I
had ever build sandcastles with them in the past was when
they had been too young to walk. More recently, they had
only seen me sitting in a beach chair, working! I obviously
had some catching up to do!
Finally one of them ventured to say, "Euh . . . papa . . .
that's not how you build a sandcastle! First you wet the
bucket, and then you fill it with soft sand."
Yes, back when I had built sandcastles with them before,
their only pleasure had been in smashing the towers as soon
as I built them. They wouldn't remember my special method of
building. "Trust me." I replied.
"It won't work!"
They were certain that my lack of experience in building
sandcastles was about to catch up to me, but when a perfect
sand tower appeared from the bucket, they stared at me in
amazement. "How did you do that??!!"
"Euh… It's a secret of my trade," I replied. "I learned to
make sandcastles when I was your age and was playing with
other kids on the beaches of Europe."
Suddenly, instead of looking at me as some ignorant kid
needing to be instructed in the art of sandcastles
construction, they saw me as some kind of an expert in the
field. "Can you do it again?" they asked. "Can you teach us
how?"
I smiled ruefully, feeling very remorseful for not having
spent more time building sandcastles with them in the past.
"Sure."
And we all set out to work together. As time went by, we
each found our "niche". Donovan was the moat builder
specialist, Darien was the wall expert, and I was the tower
whiz. Together, we made a perfect trio in the art of
sandcastle building, and two hours later, a beautiful
sandcastle stood in the sand. It had eleven towers, the
walls were inlaid with rocks and pebbles, and it was
encircled by a moat with a canal leading straight to the
lake. "This looks like a cross between Helm's Deep and
Edrias!" exclaimed Donovan, who had just finished reading
the Lord of the Rings. "It's great!" Then our fellow "beachers"
began stopping by to admire the castle. It sure felt good,
especially since it was a work that we had all shared in.
"Let's take a picture! " suggested one of the boys. But we
couldn't. The camera was in the van, and the van was
somewhere between Rock Point Provincial Park and Toronto! We
would have to hope that no one would destroy it before my
wife returned. The boys generously offered to stay and watch
over it, but I had to remind them that she wouldn't be back
until late. "You can't stay out here until then!" I said.
"Then we will stay as long as we can."
And they did. They stayed until the growling of their
stomachs drove them back to camp for supper. Later, as we
were walking to the camp store for ice cream, we stopped at
the beach to inspect our work. A few kids were playing with
the castle, pouring water in the moats and generally having
a great time. How my kids' faces beamed!
During worship that evening, both of my boys said that they
had experienced Jesus when we all worked together to build
the castle. But my youngest son's comment nearly broke my
heart: "I didn't believe it when you said you would build a
sandcastle with us. You always work. I thought you were
joking."
By the time my wife finally returned from Toronto, it was
far too dark for pictures, but early in the morning we all
rushed to the beach. Unfortunately, the lake had grown wild
during the night, and untamed waves pounded our castle. It
was a miracle that three of the towers and their
interconnecting walls were still intact.
"Your castle is still standing!" a passerby remarked.
Both of my kids smiled broadly, but my smile was bigger than
theirs. It felt so good to have been a part of their lives
for this simple activity that had meant so much to them.
A page of my life turned that weekend. I decided that the
days of making work more important than my children, my
wife, my friends, and my students were gone. I had to start
living my life in a way that showed that others were more
important than myself. In all reality, I had to start living
like Jesus. He NEVER put his own needs above the needs of
others. He even DIED so that we could have eternal life. And
if others were so important to Jesus, why should work be
more important to me? Shouldn't I be following Jesus'
example instead?
Friends and fellow parents, how much quality time do YOU
spend with YOUR kids? We are all assailed by the immensity
of our daily work, but we all have to remember that our work
will erode with time. You may be the best principal in town,
but as soon as you retire, people will forget your
achievements. You may have won gold in the Olympics, but a
few years from now someone will beat your record and your
name will eventually be forgotten. You may be a renowned
journalist, your stories making the front page every day.
However the time will come when people will not even
remember your name. Work and its achievements have but
temporary effects that are soon forgotten among the many
memories of the past. The only lasting thing is the
relationships we build. When your time has come, what will
people remember about you?
Do you make time for your children? Or is work keeping you
away from lasting memories? How will you be remembered?
1 John 4:19: "We love because he first loved us." NIV
Rob Chaffart