I was looking at a local newspaper’s online version. There was a story about something considered the edgiest design/architecture for a particular area.
While I initially clicked on the story to see the architecture (something I love to observe), it was the picture of the architect that struck me. It is the kind of photo you often see of people when they are asked to pose with their creations: hand in pocket, that look of great self-satisfaction with his craft. Not cocky or anything, just “the” requisite pose.
Why did it stand out to me? The house is somewhere given to a great amount of wear and tear from the elements. It could last 100 years or it could be driftwood with the next huge storm.
However, the beauty is there in all of its temporary splendor, because 100 years from now or two weeks from now, its stability and endurance won’t make it last forever. The confident photo be darned.
I often have this observation when I see the architecture of my area. My immediate area goes back long before we were a country and many of the buildings remain; however, so many do not due to age, progress, and personal decisions made by the owners.
I wonder if people understand the metaphor standing in front of them when they see these buildings or the overgrown outline where one once stood.
Everything ages, fades, and shows the scars of the elements. Ultimately, nothing lasts forever.
What we do in the present, how we care about each other, and how we try to preserve the best attributes of our own personal structures matter. This is beyond the physical holding us together, visible to the eye or not.
If we build our lives with the best foundations of faith, friends, and family, they will help to hold up the structure we work so hard to maintain. If that foundation crumbles, so will the rest, leaving us to be washed away by the elements. We can patch up the holes or make things look pretty, but if what is holding it all up is compromised, it will fall like a house of cards.