Why don't my sand castles last?

It happened again last night. One of my key staff resigned. Over ten years it has happened about that many times. A staff member that is competent moves on to bigger and better things.

I am happy for them, but I have a bit of that "left at the altar" kind of feeling. Or like that feeling when you build a nice big sand castle only to see a big wave come and level it in a moment.  There is nothing to do but sigh and start building again.

Bummer.

Why is life is like that?

When I got my first job after high school, my brother told me that sometimes you can't see that you built anything, so you have to get satisfaction from knowing what you have survived.

I would rather have a monument to my success -- something to "justify my existance" as an old friend used to say.

But it seems that sometimes we are called to be poured out. I am thinking I will stumble into heaven all exhausted without a lot to point to. My proverbial tail will be dragging, and I will have nothing to say.  Gabriel will ask, "What did you accomplish on earth?" I will say, "uh, nothing much."

He will say, "Why are you here?"

I will say, 'cause for some random reason God decided to let me in.

That's it.

That's all.

I guess come to think of it, that's enough.