Sandy clay

Ever walked along the beach and noticed an assortment of sandcastles and fortresses darting the sandy desert? I had seen a dozen sandcastles that day, some obviously more elaborate than others. Yet, for some reason, this one stopped my eyes in their tracks. And for more than a few seconds, I found myself staring.
I think one reason it grabbed me was because this one was still in the process of being formed. I watched intently as what appeared to be a father and his young son were hustling around to assemble this multiple turret fort that appeared to be sinking and shifting even as they rushed to shore up the foundation. They had already piled up sizeable bucket loads of sand and wet them so they would be sturdier and easier to mold. Behind this fort, a trench had already been carved to hold water.
Perhaps the other reason I found myself attracted to this sand fortress was the location. Until now, all the other sand creations I walked past that morning were dry and set back securely from the oncoming waves. But, this odd pair was building their fort just feet from the shore on already moist sand. (Not to mention the fact that the tide was coming in, not going out). So, my second fascination was why in the world was this father wasting his time so actively and intently teaching this boy about building a sand fort that was only moments from certain ruin? What could he possibly be teaching this young boy in those wasted minutes that day? Perhaps, just how foolish we humans are when it comes to the need to build big and foolishly near to the shore. How we all want to make our mark. Doesn’t he care or know that in a few minutes this boy will be crying and everything they had worked at so tediously would be a complete washout? No wonder folks today are so careless. The wise man built a house on rock, the foolish one built on the sand.
A very wise woman once said: People see God every day. They just don’t recognize him.
Suddenly, I began to re-imagine my sand fort encounter on the shore. I realized what may have truly attracted me to that wasteful scene with a boy and his father fashioning a sand fort in the path of destruction. Maybe that young father wasn’t teaching his boy about the arrogant nature of men to build in extravagant and foolish ways and toil away aimlessly. Perhaps, he was really teaching him about the nature of God; who wants nothing better, and couldn’t be happier, than to simply delight in play with his children. Maybe he was actually illustrating a brilliant lesson of how we are co-creators with God. How we may shift and move sand here or there, but God adds his own touch and molds as he sees fit. Maybe he was actually sharing something with his son without even knowing it. Perhaps, he was actually revealing with sand and water that our world isn’t that perfect, and things can crumble all around us, but it’s all about how we rework and refashion what we have. And, as I watched the first wave surge up to them and seep over their mound of sandy clay, it captured a pond of water in their trench before it retreated again.
I thought to myself: Maybe they weren’t trying to build a fort to withstand the surge of the tide, maybe they were just trying to catch waves of mercy.