This is the second of a loose series loosely called Blockpile Meditations. Series, thou art loosed. Part one is here.
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Our four-year-old son is getting it. He has built his castle of blocks and he is smiling. It is tall and imposing. It is lovely. But an enemy lurks on the edges of this Eden.
The baby crawls in, all wide eyes and slobbery smiles. It is almost as if the 9 months she spent in the womb were made up of watching training videos on how to deftly bring down a well-built tower of wooden blocks. She instinctively reaches for the cornerstone and, like Jericho, the rest is history.
Like every baby in the history of ever, our little girl has no trouble getting excited for the tumbling crash of built-up blocks. Every kid gets it.
But I want more for her.
Today, I spent fifteen minutes working with her on building. It’s slow going, but now she’s clapping and cheering herself on every occasion of block-upon-block success. The tower rises inches in the air, like the very early days in Babel. We are speaking the same language.
She is slowly learning to love the slow work of construction.
It’s easy to get a thrill from tearing things down. It’s harder to foster an appreciation for the slow and careful labor of building things up. But that’s a marker of maturity, that Godward goal for which we aim these arrows of ours.
Here in the block pile lies a great opportunity for practice runs, for training habits, for cultivating an eye for construction.
Because people are also easy to tear down and hard to build up. Especially when the people are blockheads. (We all are, sometimes, right?)
Kindling imagination for Kingdom anticipation happens with toys before towns.
Build on.
- Make Believe Makes Believers - July 19, 2021
- The Archer’s Cup is Here - September 30, 2020
- It Is What It Is, But It Is Not What It Shall Be - March 30, 2020
This is a good word, here, Sam. I’m spending a lot of time alongside the little ones who build blocks here, and with a grandmother with Alzheimer’s, and the simple lessons I see played out in those spaces are the ones I keep coming back too. Thanks for this.
Thank you, Annie. Praying for your family. I bet those kids love your art.
Thanks for loosing this series, Sam. This is a terrific installment, and I look forward to the ones to come.
Thanks, David.
Good word, Sam! We all need a reminder to work harder at building each other up rather than tearing each other down. One evil thing people do to each other is to find that vulnerable cornerstone of a person and deliberately exploit it. But so many of us carelessly knock the props out from under someone without meaning to cause harm, without thinking. Either way, relationships are ruined. So glad God promises to rebuild us again.
Good words, Brenda. Thanks. It feels really important to equip kids for this hard work of love. And there are so many opportunities.
Once again, good stuff, brother.
Thanks, sister.
thanks, Sam. This hits home, and reminds me of the necessary, hard work of lifting another up, rather than opting for the cheap shots to tear them down. Well said.
Amen to that Kris. Community is hard work. Cynicism is easy. Unless you’re trying to spell it right.
For real. I am a notoriously lousy speller. Thankfully, I’m better at building people up–most of the time.
“..the slow and careful labor of building things up.” Especially in this day and age of rapid-fire “communication,” that appreciation of the slow and the careful and the building up is so crucial. Thanks for this object lesson in building, your insight that wooden blocks can be a step toward godliness. When my kids build train tracks or Lego buildings, I won’t see it in the same way after this. 🙂
I hadn’t thought much about the pace part, Kimberlee. Well said. I need to slow down and build up.
Sam, wheelhouse. Wheelhouse, Sam.
Delightful and nourishing. Thank you!
Perfect. Now if I could get my eight-year-old to grasp the worth of slow construction.