I’ve been filling my brain with a lot of World War II novels, documentaries, and movies. Probably a good idea for someone often tempted to lie awake at night making up scary scenarios in her mind. But alas, here we are.
I tend to internalize sad stories, pondering the pain of experiencing the same circumstances of others. Empathy comes easily to me, usually for the good of others but sometimes to my demise. Picture me sobbing as I tell my husband of how awful it would be if such and such happened and begging him to never die. Then picture my husband laughing at me in my ridiculousness. But seriously, what would I do if I only had a piece of bread to feed my child? How tragic would it be to see my husband and son killed and then face sudden death myself? What if we were bombed and panic ensued?
I don’t recommend allowing yourself to focus on “what if’s.” It’s a dangerous place to let your mind wander and scripture reminds us to take our thoughts captive instead (2 Corinthians 10:5). However, it has been humbling for me. Because, when I bring myself back to reality, where I should have stayed in the first place, I’m met with the warmth of a cozy bed and the nearby embrace of my husband. I remember our sweet boy is sleeping soundly in his crib. The fact that I’m already planning in my head what to feed him for breakfast the next morning reminds me we have plenty to eat—so much food that I’m almost ashamed.
As I move about my home, my eyes behold more blessings than I could count. An abundance of blessings—grace. From the overflowing bookshelf to my fuzzy slippers to the hot water heater, all these things are gifts we don’t deserve. Gifts that are not owed to us. Gifts we take for granted.
If we learned anything from the year 2020, it’s that the freedoms and luxuries we have are fleeting, and honestly, we’ve barely lost anything at this point. I know some will disagree and that’s totally okay. I hear people claim we’ve lost so much—that our very way of life is under attack. But when I look around I still see so much abundance. I see blessings in every blink. There is so much to be thankful for.
Have we forgotten? Have I forgotten? Don’t we remember how even if all our earthly blessings are stripped away and we are grieved to our bones, we can never lose Christ? He is the only gift that will not flee, the only treasure that can’t be stolen.
Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:19-21 ESV)
Where is my treasure? Have I misplaced my hope, trying to secure it in sinking sand and gifts that rot? As I type, my husband is looking into possible foundation issues with our home. Issues that may rob us of our savings and then some. I can’t help but ponder how steady a foundation Christ is. He is the faithful foundation that will never falter (Matthew 7:24-29). He’s the wall that will never crack—the floor that will never sink.
When our hope is fixed in Christ, we are free to loosen our grip on the things of this world, regarding them as gifts to steward for his glory. Whether it be something as precious as a family or smaller blessings like money. When we have Christ as our all, we view all other gifts rightly. Jesus is the true Treasure—the most astounding Blessing of blessings. In him, there are more blessings than we could count. And no one can take his love away from us.