"All the chisels i have dulled carving idols of stone. They have crumbled like sand 'neath the waves. i have restlessly built all my dreams in the sand, just to watch them all wash away." - Jennifer Knapp
No matter how many times we built that castle -- it always sloshed and melted away beneath the torrent of water. And everytime we made a stronger structure, and reinforced caverns, it all fell just the same. Till i just sat down and salt water flowed from me and not the sea, painfully atune to the futility of our endeavor. Building on what cannot stand. Standing on what will fall. Falling with each gentle wave. These skeletons of idols littering the beach, these tomb stones marking human "acheivment" and endeavor are stale reminders of fuitile temporality of joy in "things" and not in God. So with each sweeping wave, crashing down upon the idols in my heart, may You build up, O Rock of Ages, a mountian in my heart. One not made by my hands. A Rock cut not with human hands.
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