Learning when to stop pouring and start discerning
One evening, I had the delight of picnicking at a neighbourhood park with my brother, his wife and their two small children. Four-year-old Marshall raced to finish his sandwich as he spotted a fully equipped play area in one corner of the park, not too far from our bench.
After a quick inspection of the playground, Marshall focused his attention on the spiral slide and found a myriad of ways to climb and descend from the apparatus. After a few minutes, he ran up to his Dad and asked for one of the disposable cups we had brought with us.
Marshall filled the cup with sand and climbed to the top of the slide, then carefully poured the sand down its metal surface. As he couldn’t see the results of his effort from his vantage, he climbed down the stairs to look. Most of the sand had slipped right off the slide.
With the nod of a scientist mentally recording his findings, Marshall shrugged and filled the cup again. He clambered up the stairs while carefully balancing the cup in one hand. Once again, my determined nephew poured the sand down the slide. Once again, he scrambled down the slide to check the results.
The sturdy four-year-old climbed up and down those stairs countless times, never tiring in his little self-appointed task. As he was well occupied, his father and I took the opportunity to catch up on family news.
When it was time to pack up and head home, Marshall was reluctant to go, even though fatigue slowed his steps and he was beginning to spill sand on his dogged climb up the stairs. “But Daddy, I haven’t filled it up yet!” He pointed to the slide and explained. “It’s only a little bit full!”
Sure enough, a thin dusting of sand covered the bottom of the slide, but it had made little if any purchase up against the slide’s incline. The majority of the sand he had so diligently carried and poured into his project ended up on the ground.
His father tried to explain. “Marshall, it doesn’t matter how many trips you make, it just won’t work. Nothing is holding the sand back from spilling off the edge. You can’t fill up something that doesn’t have a way of containing what you are trying to fill it up with.”
Although his father could see Marshall’s goal was futile, Marshall was reluctant to let it go.
There are times when we pour into the lives of others and see little lasting fruit. We pray, share Scripture, offer wise counsel and encourage healthier choices. Yet much of what we pour in seems to slip away.
Our temptation can be to do what Marshall did.
Go back for another cup of sand.
We explain it again. Offer more advice. Pray another prayer. Eventually, we may become frustrated. Why aren’t they getting this? Why are we dealing with the same issue again?
But perhaps we’re asking the wrong question.
The sand may be perfectly good. The counsel may be wise and the teaching sound. But the person we’re ministering to may not yet have the capacity to retain it long term.
Sometimes healing and restoration need to happen alongside discipleship. Grace may need to displace shame. Hope may need to grow where disappointment has settled in. God’s love and peace may need to strengthen places worn down by rejection, fear or instability.
That doesn’t remove personal responsibility, nor does it make us responsible for fixing anyone. It takes humility to admit but we must remember, it’s God who does the deep work. Our part is to only discern what He is doing and come alongside Him.
Someone returning with the same struggle doesn’t necessarily mean they ignored everything we said last time. Perhaps they don’t need another cup of sand just yet.
Maybe a better question is, “Lord, what are You doing in this person right now, and how can I come partner with You in this situation?”
Until next time,
©2026 Katherine Walden
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