A Heart At Home With God

It frequently happened that one of my children would construct very complex and impressive structures with toy building blocks. Occasionally blessed with the privilege of joining them in their enterprises, I sometimes personally witnessed them design and build some amazing things. While I did’t always know what it is that I was looking at, my children were always able to come up with impressive titles and elaborate explanations.

Sometimes they showed me a sky-scraper. Sometimes a spaceship. Sometimes it was the surface of a planet, and sometimes it was a creature that they have created.

Whatever the case, it was a masterpiece each time. And invariably, at the insistence of the inventor/artist, each completed work would be placed in a safe place so that the genius invested by its creator could be preserved.

Sadly, sooner or later, each work met its demise. Too often a finished piece was taken down by a brother or sister and enjoyed as if it was a toy (which, of course, it was, although its maker generally forgot that). I have noticed that toys of the Lego genre come apart most inconveniently.

On the other hand, sometimes the project was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. Someone accidentally stepped on it before it could be moved: Ouch! Sometimes it was innocently picked up and put away by a well-meaning parent: Oops! And sometimes a dog, wanting attention, would come and lie down on it even as the child was still working on it: Eww!

The greatest heartaches always came, however, when an existing work contained a piece necessary for the building of another artist/inventor’s project.