When I was a toddler, I carried around a stuffed monkey named George. I treasured that little guy. He went everywhere with me, and as far as I was concerned, he was worth more than any treasure on this earth. No price could have convinced me to sell him. He was my best treasure!

You probably have something like that in your life—right now—today. Maybe it’s an old letter someone has written t or a picture of someone dear to you; or a Bible that belonged to your father or grandfather; or a baseball card signed by your hero. Whatever it is, we all have treasures—that’s part of what it means to be human. 

There is nothing wrong with having treasures. In the verse at the top of the page, Jesus doesn’t say, “Don’t have treasures.” But He does say, “Not all treasures are created equal.”

You see, you and I tend to treasure the finer things of this world. We treasure money and gold and diamonds. We treasure nice cars and big houses and exotic vacations and fine restaurants, and good jobs, and because we were created with a treasuring personality, we pursue those things and grab hold of them and guard them. (We have to keep our treasures safe!)

But we can only protect them for so long. Eventually, time does its work, and our treasures become junk. If a moth doesn’t get them, rust will. If rust doesn’t get them, thieves will. If thieves don’t get them, your kids will after you die. 

Whatever that stuff is, it’s going to wear out, give out, burn out, rust out, run out… which means you and I are perpetually pursuing things that don’t last. And we wonder why we struggle so much with contentment.

Physical stuff, well, is just physical stuff. It’s just atoms and molecules put together. Those things don’t last. They are junk waiting to happen.

The writer of Proverbs wrote, “Do not wear yourself out to get rich; do not trust your own cleverness. Cast but a glance at riches, and they are gone, for they will surely sprout wings and fly off to the sky like an eagle.” (Proverbs 23:4)

A more recent version of this wisdom is a little poem called “Money Talks.” That money talks, I’ll not deny. I heard it once. It said, “Goodbye.”

Get the point? Temporary treasures are a bad investment. 

IBM (Big Blue) first got listed on the New York Stock Exchange in 1915. Question: If you had acquired one share of its stock on that day in 1915, how much would you be worth today? Want to guess? The correct answer is: If you bought one share of IBM stock in 1915, you would be dead today, so you would be worth nothing at all! 

We have a way of forgetting this, but Jesus never does. He says, “Look carefully before you invest. These things that catch your eye, they are temporary. Give them some time, and they’ll end up in the junk yard. 

Read Jesus’ instruction again: “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.” 

It’s not hard to figure out which treasures Jesus means. Ask yourself what things in life are eternal. What investments can you make that will outlast your time on earth? 

People will last. Even after our bodies die, we live on. God treasures human beings—we are worth the price of His Son! You see, the values of the Kingdom of God teach us to treasure people and use money. The values of this world teach us to treasure money and use people. If you value what God values, you will invest in the people around you every day. 

And speaking of which, treasure Heaven. Through Jesus Christ, it will be your home one day. The Bible says that in Heaven, a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day. We’re on this earth a tenth of that if we’re lucky. A tenth of a day in Heaven. The equivalent of two-and-a-half hours. And after that, we’ll be there.

So live with that mindset. One day, I’m going home. My time here is temporary, but I’m going to use that time to bring the values of Heaven to this earth—the permanent into the temporary. That’s an investment strategy that pleases the Lord. 

FINAL WORD:

In one of his books, writer Robert Fulgham tells the story of when his daughter was a little girl and gave him a paper bag to take with him to work. When he asked what was in the bag, she answered, “Just some stuff. Take it with you.”

When he sat down for lunch at his desk the next day, he pulled out the paper bag and poured out its contents: two ribbons, three stones, a plastic dinosaur, a pencil stub, a tiny seashell, used lipstick, two chocolate Kisses, and thirteen pennies. He chuckled, finished his lunch, and swept everything off into the wastebasket.

When he arrived at home that evening, his daughter asked him where the bag was. “I left it at the office,” he replied. “Why?”

“Well,” she said, “those are my things in the sack, Daddy. The things I really like. I thought you might like to play with them, but now I want them back.”

When she saw him hesitate, tears welled up in her eyes. “You didn’t lose the bag, did you Daddy?”

He said he didn’t and that he would bring it home tomorrow. After she went to bed, he raced back to the office. Fulgham writes:

Molly had given me her treasures… all that a seven-year-old held dear. Love in a paper sack. And I missed it. Not just missed it. I had thrown it away. Nothing in there I needed. It wasn’t the first or last time I felt like my “Daddy Permit” was about to run out. I went back to my office, dumped all the wastebaskets out onto my desk. The janitor came in and asked, “Did you lose something?”

“Yeah. My mind! It’s probably in there.”

When Fulgham found the bag, he uncrumpled it, and filled it again with his daughter’s items: two ribbons, three stones, a plastic dinosaur, a pencil stub, a tiny seashell, used lipstick, two chocolate Kisses, and thirteen pennies. He took the bag home, sat down with Molly, and had her tell him the story of every treasure in the bag. Then he writes:

To my surprise, Molly gave me the bag once again several days later. Same ratty bag. Same stuff inside. I felt forgiven. Over several months, the bag went with me from time to time. It was never clear to me why I did or did not get it on a certain day. I began to think of it as the “Daddy Prize,” and I tried to be good the night before so I could be given it on the next morning.

In time, Molly turned her attention to other things, lost interest in the game, grew up. Me… I was left holding the bag. She gave it to me one morning and never asked for it back. It sits in my office still, left over from when a child said, “Here. This is the best I’ve got. Take it. It’s yours.” I missed it the first time, but it’s my bag now.

God’s treasures ordinary people. Though they may come plainly wrapped, each one has a story. Each one is precious to him and every day he entrusts these treasures to us.

Reflect:

Write the names of the 3 people you are closest to in your journal. Beside their names, write out a prayer unique to them thanking the Father for the gift of their life. (Share what you've written with each individual!)