Fallen Towers

Psalm 50:15

I have the fondest memory of watching my son build a block tower on our dining room floor. He was only two years old at the time, and as can be expected his architectural abilities were a bit unrefined. With our carpet as his foundation, he began to stack his blocks one atop the other. No firm ground to build upon, no wide base to prevent leaning; just a single width of blocks straight up. His little face appeared very intense as he laid each new piece above the next. As the tower grew, he held it steady with one hand while he continued to build with his other. Before long, he wasn't even able to reach the top. Then, the inevitable took place; his tower fell, and he cried. I watched him build like this for close to half an hour, one tower after another. Finally, with his little boy tears and puffy cheeks he turned his head, looked at me and reached out his arms. Usually if he wanted me to pick him up it was to get to something out of reach; but this time he didn't want to play with light switches or something high on the counter. Now, he just wanted his daddy. His tower had fallen for the last time, he had been defeated, and he turned to me for help. To everyone else his tears were only those of frustration, and his tower was nothing more than a toy. However, he is my son, and he was asking me to fix it. For that reason alone my heart whelmed up with the love, and pride, that only a daddy can know. He is my son, whom I love in ways that neither word nor sigh can ever express; and if I were to spend the rest of my life doing nothing more than fixing his fallen towers, I would consider it a life well spent. Like my son, we too build towers, and they are no sturdier than his. In our attempts to please God with our deeds rather than our hearts we continue to add blocks to monumental proportions. Sadly, with every new layer we only undermine the unstable foundation upon which our towers are built. Then, the inevitable takes place; our towers fall. Yes, we are called to "conduct ourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ (Philippians 1:27)" and our calling (Ephesians 4:1), as well as to "work out your own salvation (Philippians 2:12)". However, this does not teach that we can work our way into God's heart, for God is never pleased with the ritual of sacrifice. It is not our self-righteous living that honors Him. Nor is he moved by our religious achievements. It is our faith, which is so often expressed in our willingness to cry out to Him in our times of trouble. The Lord declared it through the Psalmist, "and call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you will honor me (Psalm 50:15)." With the love that only a daddy can know, our Father in heaven sits close by, watching as we build our towers. He waits patiently for that last one to fall. Then, with our puffy cheeks, and our arms reaching out to Him for help, He delivers us. Whether or not my son is ever able to build a tower that will not fall doesn't matter. For as long as he continues to call upon me for help, I will always be there. Likewise, the Lord is near to all that call upon Him (Psalm 145:18), and an ever-present help in our times of trouble (Psalm 46:1). God loves us in ways that neither word nor sigh can ever express. So much so that He humbled Himself to the point of death in order to fix our fallen towers, and He too considered that a life well spent.  [mp]

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Michael D'Urbano
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