The other day I was in the kitchen when I heard blocks being dumped all over the living room floor. My son yells, “No, princess you have to do it like this!” Well, the princess (age 1) is trying desperately to stack the blocks but they just won’t connect. Eventually, she sits beside him—as any good princess would—and begins handing him blocks while he builds the castle tower.

Later, the three year old prince lets out a war cry and sweeps across the tower with his sword. All their work comes crashing down.
As I watch from the kitchen, I am puzzled and a bit concerned. Why did he destroy a perfectly good tower? He should be careful. One of them is going to get hurt by the falling (and flying) blocks. In my heart, I ponder.

I think of the towers I’ve watched tumble. The friendships. The ministry opportunities. The dreams. I have been frightened by the quaking earth. I have been hurt by the falling blocks.

I thought we were building together. He is the Prince of Peace. Why such chaos and destruction? He is The Comforter. Then why am I in such distress?

I shift my gaze from the rubble of my heart back to the living room.

I realize only I am troubled by the current state of the castle tower. The princess trusts he prince. She’s moved on to the next adventure. The thrill for her was in the time spent building with him.

The Prince? Well, He has His reasons. He is building something different. Better.

With each tower I learn to place my hope, not in the outcome but in The Master Builder. I learn to trust him.

Through the building.
Through the tumbling.
Through the re-building.

…I progressively become more deeply and intimately acquainted with Him… (Philippians 3:10 AMP)