The six-foot pile of sand on the vacant lot made an enticing playground for the neighborhood children. Older children with all-terrain vehicles, go-carts and dirt bikes used it as a jump pad for their races.
To the younger children it seemed more like a fort. Busily digging, they had tunneled more than eight feet into the pile. Now ten-year-old Erik was starting a new tunnel out from the center. No one noticed that the sand, which had been wet when they began, was drying out in the hot Florida sunshine.
Erik worked contentedly in the cool shade of the tunnel. His work was going well; soon they would have a three-way tunnel with three entrances. He could see the sunshine at the end of the tunnel, and the sounds of the other children playing came to him.
“Then,” his friend Anthony said, “all of a sudden—BOOM—dirt started falling, and Erik started screaming.”
All the boys began frantically digging to reach Erik. Anthony said, “We were using everything we could find—our hands, even our shoes.”
One boy ran for his father, a police officer, and two other neighbors joined in the furious digging. One man, lacking a shovel, said, “I was just digging doggie-fashion, right between my legs!” At last a bit of brown hair appeared in the sand, and they were able to lift the little boy’s head enough to start mouth-to-mouth. He seemed to be dead; it looked hopeless, but as soon as he was fully uncovered they could give him CPR until the Fire Rescue Team arrived. Erik was lifted by helicopter to the children’s hospital and intensive care. Soon the message came back to the frightened boys: Erik’s condition was “stable.”
It is so easy to dig ourselves into sand forts! It is so easy to be comfortable in our cool and shady little niches and convince ourselves that everything is all right—we’re really progressing very well with our plans and projects. But the dry little whisper of falling sand is increasing; the voices of warning are louder and more insistent. There is a little feeling that anything could happen suddenly—BOOM! The tunnel falls. There is a feeling of insecurity vague, indefinite—but nonetheless real.
What can we do about it? We can try to shore up our own little tunnels, but there is no safety there; sand is sand, unstable, shifting, impossible to depend on. We need a strong—a very strong—tower, and God has provided just such a tower. Oh, not like the “Twin Towers,” which fell on that terrible day in September. This tower stands strong and secure for all eternity, absolutely impervious to whatever disasters may come.
Then—how? John 1:11-1211He came unto his own, and his own received him not. 12But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: (John 1:11‑12) answers that: “He [the Lord Jesus] came unto His own, and His own received Him not. But as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name.”
“Believing” and “receiving.” It is as simple as that!