Treasure

I have boxes and boxes of extra stuff.  Every time I’ve moved there are always these extra pictures and wall dumijobbies (that’s a technical term for my collection of wall sconces, knickknacks, etc.).  In my previous home there was the perfect place for that thing, but the new home just doesn’t have the same accommodations.  So, I stare at that box of stuff, having no idea what to do with it and relegate it to the basement.  It’s where all good things and stuff go to die.  It’s sad.

Oh, well, moving on, about twelve years ago my family and I moved to Illinois.  Just like every other move, my basement started filling up with the stuff that I couldn’t find a home for anywhere else.  The basement became an overflowing mass of cardboard.  Some people are awesome at getting everything unpacked and their homes decorated in record time.  I’m not that person, I’m missing that gene.

Unfortunately, the downside of my not having unpacked in a timely fashion is that I invariably need to find something hidden deep within one of those boxes.  So, I mounted an expedition into the scary basement to unearth the treasure that I sought, in this instance it was a book.  Would you believe I couldn’t even remember the name of the book?  I could only remember what the front of the book looked like.  That meant I had to dig through box after box of books, looking at their covers.  I had a general idea of where to begin, so I took my trusty knife and started cutting.  I cut open boxes that I don’t think I had unpacked from my previous move.  If I’d had a marker I would have written “Donate to Charity,” but the markers where packed in another box.  So, I kept setting aside box after box, my book in its box tomb was being elusive.  I was becoming discouraged.  I spied a box on the top of one of the storage shelves, it was marked “BOOKS.”  I can’t always trust the label because it might have been a box from another move, but I decided to chance it anyway.

I’m not all that short, but I am by no means tall, so boxes, etc. on the top of shelves are still a stretch for me.  On my tiptoes I started working the box off the shelf.  I got the box to a point where I thought I could let it drop into my arms.  Yikes! The box and its contents ended up being a lot heavier than I had thought and it slipped out of my hands and onto the cement floor.  The horrible crashing sound left me with no doubts that my book was not in that box.  In fact, at the point I would have guessed correctly that the box I just dropped didn't hold one single book.  I didn’t want to look down to see what that box was actually labeled.

I stood there for a few minutes staring at the wall ahead of me.  I slowly looked down at the box at my feet and a cold chill went through me.  A sadness that seized me, no tears or screaming, I just felt incredibly sad.  I decided to cut into the box, to actually see what the damage looked like.  As I pulled back the flaps and unzipped the special carrier inside, I saw my china shattered into pieces, china has a way of looking like shards and dust, there were a couple of survivors though; two luncheon plates and a couple of cups. I just sat down and stared at the contents.

As I looked at the damage, the Lord reminded me of a verse, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matt. 6:19-21, emphasis mine).

I folded the box flaps over the top of the carnage and said out loud, “Thank you Lord, this is not my treasure, this is just a thing.”   With a deep sigh, I set the box aside, and continued my original mission.  Wouldn’t you know it, the box I was looking for happened to be sitting about two feet away.  I burrowed down and found the book I was so desperate to find.  My feet took me to the stairs and I glanced over to take one last look at the box marked "China" on the top and "Books" on the side, turned out the light, and left it's shattered contents to deal with another day.

Holman Illustrated Bible Dictionary describes treasure this way, “Jesus Himself used the term [treasure] frequently.  He contrasted earthly treasures to those of heaven (Matt. 6:19-20).  What a person treasures or values determines one’s loyalty and frivolities (Matt. 6:21).  Paul marveled that the treasure of God’s revelation of Himself in Christ had been deposited in an earthen vessel such as Paul himself (2Cor. 4:7)."

One of the definitions of treasure is the accumulation of wealth and riches, but it can also mean “to regard or treat as precious; to cherish.”  Vine’s puts it even better, to put in “a place of safe keeping.”  I’m thankful for the treasure stored in my own fragile jar of clay and for the safe keeping of my treasures in heaven.

Paul ended his first letter to Timothy with this: “Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life”
(1 Timothy 6:18-19, emphasis mine).

I feel assured that I am God’s treasure, never to be relegated to the dark corner of some basement.  I will always have value and worth to my Lord, no matter where He moves me.