#but it’s my own little special dream scenario that I like to build sandcastles with

[cecoeur]

I hope Daniel walks into Aus GP 2025 as a guest of Jack Doohan with the world’s biggest fuck off chain and rings and short shorts now that he’s no longer bound to be wearing Hugo, and i hope he’s bronzed to the GODS and slutty about it too

I would love this so much because we know there are still folks on that team from daniel's renault days (and we know they stayed late in singapore to get to share a moment with him, which I could literally cry about all over again) and then Jack is his little Ricciardo Karts baby and it would be SO special. He would absolutely be full c*nt. Dripping in chains, showing off his chest hair, and looking damn FINE.

Now to be a party pooper, I don't think it will happen because I don't think daniel would want to pull focus from Jack at his first f1 race that also happens to be his first home race. I also would kind of be surprised if we see daniel at an F1 track even next year. I could see him at another motorsports event but probably not in the formula 1 sphere for a while. Obviously a lot can change between now and then but that's my current vibe on this guy i've never met and do not know in real life lol.

[simplesoulsongs]

Castles and Sandcastles

Several years ago, I had a vivid dream.

A little girl sat on the beach, eagerly building a sandcastle with her father. They laughed and strategized, joked and designed. The girl looked at their creation and smiled; the father looked at her and smiled. I could feel contentment and camaraderie shining through every interaction.

Without warning, the wave came—crashing, whirling, dissolving their castle with cruel ease... Dismay flooded the girl’s face as she stared at the blank slate before them, but her father wrapped his arms around her and merrily suggested another attempt. Brief hesitation, a reassuring smile, and the process began again—laughter and creation, hard work and grand play. Yet just as before, the icy wave crashed upon their celebration and raced away with their labor in its grasp, leaving the daughter wailing in shock and staring at the ocean in horror. “Our home!” She cried. Again, her father smiled, wrapped his arms around her, and offered her a shovel. This scenario repeated several times, until such chronic disaster brought the girl to her breaking point; she threw her shovel at the ocean and refused to be comforted. With eyes full of compassion, her father simply held her this time—a small ache added to his calm smile.

At this point, the dream suddenly revealed what stood behind these two characters: a castle-like mansion, rising from the beach in stunning magnificence. As is so often the case in dreams, I suddenly understood that this was their actual home—a home that the father had labored long and hard to create, and a home that he would soon reveal to his daughter for the first time. As I watched the little girl vacillate between glaring at the sea and staring in shock at her father’s confounding serenity, I could feel how excited he was to share this grand surprise and—even more so—how much he enjoyed simply being close to his daughter. He felt the loss of each sandcastle, because he felt the significance that it held for her; he also understood the even more precious significance of their together, regardless of the architectural results.

As I emerged from the dream and began mulling over its insights, several truths hit home. First, I began to see how much of my life was, at its core, merely a sandcastle. Grades. Accomplishments. Jobs. Talents. Even friendships and relationships. All claiming absolute significance, all constructed by sheer willpower and personal effort, all commandeering energy, time, and resources, all directly correlated to my sense of worth and value. I invest, invest, invest… And dissolve with each sandcastle when the “tides of life” so effortlessly sweep my efforts away.

Second, I felt the heart of God. I saw Him care about my sandcastles…simply because He cared for me. But ultimately, I saw Him wanting me to enjoy being with Him—building sandcastles alongside Him, resting in Him when they were swept away, and even bravely deciding to build more if He would build them with me. The sandcastles weren’t the point. His presence was.

Finally, I began to realize that the work was already done. That God is the master builder, and any significance or success given to my work were simply gifts from Him—designed to point back to His greatness and His goodness. He calls me to partner with Him, not to do the work for Him. My architectural ability, so to speak, does not determine God’s success in building His kingdom.

These were big realizations for me, and incredibly timely ones too. The day after this dream, and even just hours after trying valiantly to draw what I had pictured, I lost one of the biggest “sandcastles” in my life. As I watched this particularly special creation disappear suddenly into the sea, a large part of my heart seemed to go with it. I was the girl staring into the waves wondering why and wondering how—why did good things go away, and how could I move forward when I had so little left to invest. But I was also the little girl looking up into her Daddy’s face, realizing that He was still there, that He was sad with me, and that even this sandcastle was just another opportunity to see how much He loved me. Good things sometimes wash away to refocus us on the better things—the best things, even.

In the years since that dream, I’ve built many more sandcastles—all of varying size, complexity, and level of investment. I’ve poured myself into hundreds of students (launching my 6th violin program tomorrow), into an exhausting and rewarding masters’ degree, and into relationships that fade and blossom. These and the sandcastles to come are good things in many ways. My bizarrely driven nature reflects my Creator and His intentional design. Yet through the twistedness of sin, these things also result in a chronic inability to rest, as well as a perpetual tendency to rely on my own abilities and worship my own accomplishments.

As such, God reminded me even just a few days ago that life is in many ways like “Bring Your Child to Work Day.” As His children, we are given the opportunity to join alongside the Master Designer—the One who created the universe in six days, who continually “works for the good of those who love him,” who was before all things and holds all things together*. Each task given to us is first and foremost an opportunity born of grace to enjoy spending time with our Father. Only His work makes our work possible. Only partnership with Him gives our work lasting significance. Only our relationship with Him holds utmost significance.

Less than a week after dreaming of castles and sandcastles, I found myself at a worship service absorbing these lyrics for the first time:  

“Let go, my soul, and trust in Him; the waves and wind still know his name…Through it all, through it all, my eyes are on you. Through it all, through it all, it is well.”

Even in the midst of a snowday, as I ironically strive to rest, I find myself realizing anew what the best things really are: looking up from my sandy endeavors to see my God smiling beside me, and knowing that He will still be beside me even as the sandcastles come and go.

Because of this truth, it is well.

*

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

“For from him and through him and for him are all things. To him be the glory forever!” (Romans 11:36)

“The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” (Colossians 1:15-17)