A Rock?

I heard recently someone say, "You can't crush rocks with your hands." I don't remember who said it, or in what context it was stated, but I have an image in my mind from my early childhood years that I never thought would cause me anything but laughter. I shall describe the experience:

I remember playing at a playground in my cousins' town. I was probably about 7 years old and I had not yet developed such a debilitating fear of "germs" yet. I played on the equipment with my siblings and cousins, got sand in my shoes, swang on the swings, played tag . . . Oh, I remember having so much fun. I still remember the dusty sandy gravel smell as we chased each other and laughed and had a great time.

So, we were playing on this gravel. One of my cousins, who was about 3 or 4, at the time, picked up an orange-colored rock (that was by some other same-colored rocks in a small pile) and crushed it with his fingers. He was impressed with his strength -- the rock just turned into dust. He brought our attention to these rocks that magically broke between his tiny tot fingers.

One of my older, much more mature cousins, was able to see what this young cousin had in his hands, pointing out that it was NOT a rock, but was indeed dried-out dog poo. When he realized this, he was horrified -- as was I -- and he threw the little orange pebble down and we didn't go around that part of the playground anymore. This situation entertained our families for years to come.

I thought about choices this cute little cousin has made in his life. I thought about the different choices I've made in my life, and I've thought generally about CHOICES and LIFE. (No need to make this paragraph any longer and more repetitive, right?) I thought about the wise man and the foolish man -- how they build their houses upon whatever they chose. The wise man built his house upon a rock. The foolish man may have THOUGHT he built his house upon a rock, but really, he built it on dried-up dog poo that a little 3-year-old could smash in his little fingers. When the rain comes tumbling down, at least the rock will still just smell like a rock.

This particular cousin is an adult now, approaching his 30s. He's got a good heart but has a lot of problems in his life. He has made some really foolish decisions and convinced himself that everyone ELSE is wrong. He has made choices that have made him miserable, all the while convincing himself that his former RELIGION and FAMILY were at fault. From an objective perspective of the situation, and fortunately not having to be directly involved, I've seen how this person has built his house on a foundation of the spiritual equivalent of DOG POO.

How sad is that?