My family went to distribute my Dad’s ashes. He died almost 5 years ago. Dad loved the ocean, sunsets and sandcastles. He has some stories of building sandcastles in his books and in his talks. We all gathered on the California coast. We had the whole family including his grandkids ages 2 on up build a giant sandcastle. The castle had a huge mote, shell covered towers, driftwood walls and flowers all over the top. Each grandchild and family member found their own thing to focus on in the building of the castle. We then put my dad’s ashes in the highest castle that we had hollowed out. We covered it up and watched the tide come in and slowly wash him out to sea. I sat in a chair with one of my Dad’s cigars and a glass of red wine as the sun set and cryed my eyes out. It was really quite beautiful. We need these kind of ceremony’s in our lives. The kind that point to the feelings and wonders beyond words. I have said this before but I have this fundamental belief that true spirituality is an art and this was one of those moments when everything came together in one big dance and as it did, as always, I felt close to God. We sat watching the waves come in like time washing against our own bodies, taking us out bit by bit. Yelling when the “big ones” would come rushing in. “Here comes a big one!” we would yell. “get Ready!” “this could be it!” The waves slowly breaking down the sand until finally a big one finally did come. When it did, it took the last vestiges of the castle and washed it out to sea until all was flat…the ashes and all that was left of my father was gone…..and all was as it was before we built the sandcastle. In that moment all grew quiet and I said, “goodbye Dad” and then I heard my sister Jill say, “goodbye Dad” and we both began to weep. 
We all spend our lives working on our castle. Some of us focus on the shinny parts – decorating the outside to make it as beautiful as possible. Others of us concentrate on the moat and the walls making sure all is protected and defended. But the thing is or as my Dad would say “but the reality is” it is all sand. Where was God in all of this? He was in the building. He was in my hands and the grandkids hands as they rushed back and forth with more driftwood to hold back the oncoming sea. He was in my sisters eyes as they found beauty in the shells and flowers to place on the towers. He was in my Dad’s wife’s feet as she searched for just the right place to build and he was in my brother’s voice as he struggled to find the words to tie strings to the feelings that cannot be said. This is life. Building that sandcastle was all that we feel in life: the enormounty of it along with the fragility and smallness. In one day I was filled with immeasurable Joy as the sun began to shine and the wind stopped and it then dropped to the lowest of lows as the last bit of sand began its journey back home to the sea. So what do we do? We build our sandcastles with joy and reckless abandone. We build because we can, because that is what we are here to do. Yes, we struggle with the oncoming waves but always…always….building with our hands and feet caked with sand and mud and sea. Caked with this moment, this brief fragile moment of being alive. In the end the sea will carry us all out. Our walls will crumble. Our bridges will fall. Our castles will fall to ruin. All that we make believe is 
permenant will go flat. But somewhere God is watching with cigar and glass of wine with joy in his eyes. Taking pleasure in watching what we will create next as the waves begin to rise. Laughing as we run and splash in the waves searching for more shells. Until that final moment when we here him Shout, “here comes a big one!!!! Woooo HOOO!!!”
