<p><!-- BEGIN THEIA POST SLIDER --></p>
<p> <br />
</p>
<div>
<p>COMMENTARY: A simple afternoon of sifting sand becomes a reflection on how sin slips quietly into the soul — and how grace restores what was lost.</p>
</p></div>
<div>
<p>Sixteen years ago, when our first grandchild was a toddler, I set up a sandbox in our backyard so that visits to our house could include the simple joy of digging, pouring and play. Over the years, eight more grandchildren have delighted in constructing sandcastles, burying “treasures” and slipping their fingers and toes into the soft, shifting grains.</p>
<h3>Digging In</h3>
<p>On a recent, unusually warm winter day, I suggested to my youngest grandchild, Joseph, that we clean out the debris that had gathered in the sandbox. We each grabbed a mesh sieve and went out to the backyard, where I removed the sandbox cover and the assorted toys scattered within.</p>
<p>With plastic shovels in hand, we scooped up mounds of sand littered with dried leaves and twigs.</p>
<p>We shook and sifted the sand, watching the fine grains drift back into the box until only debris remained in the sieves. The trash was then emptied into sand buckets, ready to be taken to the garbage bin.</p>
<h3>Sifting for Splendor</h3>
<p>As I watched the sand transform from a jumble of leaves and twigs back to its pristine state, I couldn’t help but think of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. The sand became a symbol of the soul, while the debris that marred its beauty represented sins. Through the gentle process of sifting, the sand regained the splendor it was meant to have — just as the grace of Reconciliation restores us to the purity we first received at baptism.</p>
<h3>Tiny Gaps, Big Lessons</h3>
<p>Partway through our chore, Joseph asked, “Grandma, why didn’t you just keep the lid on the sandbox?” He had seen me remove it, but perhaps he thought it hadn’t been in place all winter. And he had a point — the lid <i>had</i> been on. Yet somehow, through the tiny cracks where the top met the base, leaves and twigs had crept in. Just like sin.</p>
<p>Isn’t that exactly how life works? We may think we’re shielding our hearts, but sin seeps in through the tiniest gaps. We linger around people who pull us in the wrong direction. We get caught up in books, movies or television shows that glorify morally dubious behavior. Our patience frays, our words spill carelessly, and our passions run unchecked. Just as a sandbox needs careful sifting to restore its purity, our souls need mindfulness, reflection and the grace of God to keep them whole.</p>
<h3>Anchored in Grace</h3>
<p>With our work complete, I replaced the top of the sandbox, anchoring it down with a few bricks. My hope is that the sand will remain unspoiled until the next time a grandchild wants to play there.</p>
<p>This week, I will receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation, echoing King David’s prayer: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (Psalm 51:10).</p>
<p>Just as the sand was restored and protected, Reconciliation renews and safeguards the soul, preparing the heart for a life of joy, love and service in the days to come.</p>
<p>And I have a sun-filled afternoon with a preschooler to thank for setting me on the right path.</p>
</p></div>
<p><br />
<br /><a href="https://www.ncregister.com/commentaries/mcadam-sifting-sin">Source link </a></p>
<p><!-- END THEIA POST SLIDER --></p>

Lessons from a Sandbox and a 4-year-old| National Catholic Register
