A Firm Foundation

“Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock” (Matt. 7:24–25).

I stood at the water’s edge this morning, my feet firmly planted as I reveled in the ocean view. Actually, “firmly planted” is a pretty generous term for all the near stumbling, almost toppling, and constant repositioning that occurred.

Despite my best efforts to be “firmly planted,” my feet constantly shifted as the grains of sand ebbed and flowed beneath them. Sometimes the shifts were subtle—slight nuances barely noticeable under the water. But sooner or later, the water etched a tunnel beneath me that collapsed under my weight. Other times, bigger waves crashed up to my knees and shoved the sand from under my feet in one fell swoop. Such is the nature of planting myself upon the sand, no matter how firmly.

As I stood pondering this, I considered castles built by children on the sand. They certainly disintegrate quickly under the slightest pressure from wind or rain or tides. But what if the best architects and builders were to come together to build a house upon the sand, determining to plant it firmly and taking every effort to secure it as no other house had been secured in the history of houses built?

It wouldn’t make a difference, would it? Because no matter how stable the structure seems, or how firmly it appears to be planted, it makes absolutely no difference if the foundation itself is built on sand—constantly shifting and changing with the ebbs and flows of life, the pressures and choices, and the hard things.

There’s so much sand in the world. It’s unstable and erratic, a volatile material completely unsuitable for the foundation of a life or a marriage. No matter the allure of romance in our newlywed days. No matter the security duty offers as we raise our children. No matter how we build our wealth or our homes or our reputations. It doesn’t matter how firmly you and I cling to these things or how solidly we think we’re building upon them; they’re still nothing more than sand.

As women, we often build upon the sand of mistaken identity. I label myself as wife, and I call myself mother. I view myself this way, but not like that. Perhaps you can relate. While these roles are important to my life and the calling God has for me, they aren’t my identity because at its very core my identity is a daughter of God, a saint who has been made righteous in Christ.

Why is this important to our marriages? When we walk faithfully in our identity as His redeemed daughters, clothed in His righteousness moment by moment, the practicalities of our role as wives will fall into place. And this starts with simply staying connected to our Heavenly Father. We must steadfastly refuse to believe any lie that says we just don’t have time, as if this isn’t as essential as the very air we breathe. Our relationship with Him is the only sure foundation for every role, every calling, and every task in this life. What a wonderful God He is to let the beauty of His presence renew our joy each day and to let His Word nourish and equip us.

Dear Heavenly Father, thank You so much for calling us your own. By Your grace, we are your daughters, saints who have been made righteous in Christ. Forgive us for prioritizing other roles or tasks above our relationship with You, which you designed to be the spring from which all else flows. Please give us hearts that thirst for You, and may our souls echo the psalmist’s when he said, “Oh, how I love thy law! It is my meditation all the day” (Ps. 119:97). Help us to live purposely in the identity You secured for us, and to walk faithfully as godly wives to our husbands. It’s in the name of our Savior, Jesus Christ, that we pray. Amen.

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