Castles Made of Sand Fall Into the Sea

The Helm

What end will come to what we’re building?

Many things happened this week and I had some thought provoking conversations. All of this coalesced into rewriting this week’s post.

Everything in our day to day lives feels so important, until we are no longer at the helm of our own ship.

That’s where we’re steering this ship today.

Clash of Tides

This past week, two legendary icons crossed the river that waits for us all. On July 22nd, 2025, death came for Ozzy Osbourne. Two days later, death came for Terry Bollea, better known to the world as Hulk Hogan. Both men built massive legacies.

Ozzy Osbourne and his band, Black Sabbath, changed the face of rock and roll music forever. It’s arguable they birthed heavy metal as a genre. Hulk Hogan was absolutely the face of American wrestling. He WAS wrestling. And now, what they built, all their effort, all the work, all the wins and losses and summits and falls, has to be passed on to another.

This realization struck me while I was away on a work trip. I had the opportunity to visit St. Louis, Missouri for a conference and got to meet a lot of industry people. Of the dozens of men I spoke to, it seemed we all shared similar struggles and were looking for ways to lead and organize that would be effective. During one long conversation, an older gentleman shared how he had spent 40 years building his program. The career effort of his life was poured into a legacy, and within 5 years the next person to stand at the helm he left behind had run the ship ashore and crashed it onto the rocks.

A similar story happened with a co-worker last year. He built a program from the ground up. Where there was no framework, no equipment, no structure, he fulfilled the dominion mandate and like his Creator, he made something out of nothing. As time went on, his health waned until he suddenly passed away. We knew he wasn’t doing well, but we didn’t think he wouldn’t be coming back. Now, the helm has been passed, his name was on a slide of team members we lost over the year, a new crew is here, and except for a few long-time guys his memory is already fading. Within a year.

In fact, the city of St. Louis itself is an embodiment of this very passing. Peak population in the city was north of 850,000 in the 1950’s. According to NPR in May 2025, St. Louis is experiencing population drop faster than any other U.S. city. Now, reports show a population of around 300,000. Having spent four days there, which included Uber rides to and from the airport, the beauty of Gateway Arch National Park is a bubble in an otherwise hurting city whose legacy, and people, has been passed on to other locations.

Before I go any further, I realize I’m on the edge of being as much of a downer as many people’s almost least favorite book of the Bible, right behind Leviticus, Ecclesiastes. Have you read it? The wisest man who has ever lived, who achieved wealth, kingdoms, and peace, tested all things and found them vain. King Solomon finally figured out how to cut through the fog that he himself got lost in. The book is only a downer if we chase the same things, but it is life to those who want to keep things in their appropriate places.

Solomon offers up his wise counsel to those who have ears to hear. It’s not that there is nothing worth doing. It’s that all things will not last. This too shall pass. As my father-in-law would say, “There has to be a balance.” We really can go all in or double-down on what won’t endure. If you ever spend any time on LinkedIn, you can see the massive amount of effort grasping at mist. Careers are one deal away from collapse. Have you thought about how fragile the little worlds we live in actually are? How dependent we are on what we take for granted? People will say the wrong things. Offense will be taken. Relationships will strain, fade away, heal, or fall apart. In the heat of battle, whether that’s within or without, we can lose sight of the destination. It’s vital that we know where we’re going.

The problem is even when we set goals, we may be building castles out of sand. Wind and waves and erosion and the rampant spread of green will eventually come calling for the sandcastle we’ve spent our efforts building. Our health, our wealth, our pride, our control, our respect, our relationships, our physique, our appearance, our business, our reputation, our connections, our team, our education, our credentials, our organization, our opportunities, our wisdom, our knowledge, our portfolio, our purposes, our peace, our pleasures, our possessions, our abilities, our level in Fortnite, our engagement, our followers, our subscribers, our newsletters. At some point, all of these things will be out of our hands. At best, they’ll fade into memory, which may be recorded, and if so will then undoubtedly be questioned.

We can be tempted that those consistent late nights at the office or the notifications that bombard us like fire and brimstone from the sky are more important than anything else. Even in the family, I know I can take on the burden of responsibility being all up to me. Another way of saying it is I’ve tried to play the role of the Holy Spirit and change hearts but in the end, I am not God. Even on the days I wish I was.

Yet, we must build. We must create. It’s in our nature, and when we cease to do so, we get out of balance like a top that’s beginning to lose its torque. Our danger is that we set our sights on summits that don’t deliver on their promise. What paths tempt you to pursue them like they’re the ultimate thing? You are not alone in chasing something that isn’t real, isn’t lasting, or isn’t eternal. We are all susceptible to chasing the wind. Even Hulk Hogan, who at the end of his life sounds like he had learned the lessons of King Solomon.

You may have to click on this to view Hogan’s video.

The Armory

At the risk of sending conflicting messages, we need to spend some time with King Solomon to grasp what he’s saying.

For the one who is looking to Jesus as the solid rock of their faith, there is finally purpose in their work. Hard work and discipline to develop success and achievement will crumble and fall into the ravenous stomach of the grave unless they are built on the only foundation that has defeated death.

So the question is, what are you working toward? Is the destination you’re focused on a rock or a shadow? Is it real or an illusion? As counterintuitive as it sounds, if we do not run our ships aground on the Rock of Christ, we will be sailing in vessels destined to become derelict in our own personal retelling of the Last Voyage of the Demeter.

What truth do we arm ourselves with, then?

We must work and build towards something. We have to go somewhere. While we can sit and question what God’s will may or may not be, it is more beneficial to look at our destination, then look at our route, ask if all dots on the map line up with the glory of God and submission to His revealed wisdom in Scripture, and then set our sights on the sunrise.

Should we look to the glory of ourselves, or draw our map with the good destination of God’s glory through the route of our own means, we are not plotting our lives in the wisdom of Proverbs 3:5-6.

Submit your destination and your route to the wisdom of God, then work at it with all your might. These are the works built on a rock will not fall into the sea like castles of sand or derelict ships.

Dropping Anchor

Have you ever felt like you didn’t know which way to go or what your next turn should be?

Have you felt conflict brewing, wounds widening, or confusion growing? There are many days where I suspect I may just be an old fool. At the very least, in the days I’ve acted a fool, I’ve not found solid ground.

There have been castles I have set my hands to build that have eventually crumbled and fallen into the sea.

Can you say the same thing?

Stay Anchored and keep fighting the good fight,

~ J.P. Simons ⚓️

Below Deck: A Deep Dive

For this week’s deep dive, I want to take you outside of the safety of the ship and into the waters of someone’s lived experience.

In my teenage years, one of my favorite metal bands was a group called Snot. Their single album that came out in 1997, Get Some, was fast, passionate, original and intense. In 1998, their lead singer, Lynn Strait, was killed in a car accident.

A group of fellow musicians, which is fair to say are all part of Ozzy Osbourne’s legacy, collaborated on a tribute to Lynn and the band in 2000 with an album called Strait Up. On that album, there’s a track called Sad Air, which is a monologue from Lynn Strait describing addiction and compulsion.

I’m not recommending Snot, Get Some, or Strait Up to you here. Should you listen to Get Some, you will find explicit lyrics and content. It can be tempting to listen to Sad Air and think, “Well, that’s not me. I’m not addicted to any drugs. I’m not compulsive or impulsive. My head’s on straight.” (No pun intended) The truth is there’s varying degrees of life’s efforts falling apart on us. Lynn’s life represents an extreme, but his reactions and how he’s dealing with it? Maybe not so much.

Consider this deep dive an uncomfortable look behind a curtain of a man who knows his castle is falling into the sea. Fair warning, Lynn curses three times.