Treasure Hunters

Before parenthood, everyone tells you about how huge the change will be in your life and how great parenthood will be. But nobody tells you just how badly your 12-pound angel’s dirty diaper can make your stomach feel. They don’t really explain how frustrating it is to get up every two hours at night to feed a crying baby. They don’t give you the words to say to that stranger in the store who is offended because your toddler has learned the word “monkey” and is screaming it to everyone who walks by. No one can explain the love and worry that a mother goes through at 3am when the fever has not broken. Every year at Mother’s Day we all have something to be grateful for: our moms who were much cooler before we came along and who put up with much more than they should have.

The Bible tells us that Mary treasured the memories of raising Jesus in her heart. It is easy to forget that Jesus was a real baby, a real toddler and a real child. Mary changed the Creator of the Universe’s dirty diapers; she taught the Messiah how to blow His nose and all of those other wonderful things that we teach our children. I imagine that there was a special glow that came over Mary when someone would ask her a question about her son, Jesus. I’m sure she smiled when she recalled the day that 12 year-old Jesus got lost in the city during Passover. And after years had passed by, that day of terror became a treasure to Mary. Memories are the treasures that nobody can take away and cannot rot or decay.

Maybe this weekend was a treasure for you. Twenty years from now, the big promotion you were hoping for or the new car you’ve been wanting will probably mean nothing to you. But that stressful Sunday morning when your daughter, in her beautiful new Sunday dress, fell in the toilet 5 minutes before you were supposed to leave for church. The stress from that morning will soon transform into a beautiful gem, a treasure that you can add to your treasure chest of precious memories.

My challenge for you is this: be a treasure hunter, value every moment that you have with your loved ones and try to never miss a memory.

Shiny Plastic Couches

Sometimes a smell can take you to a faraway place. The other day I smelled a familiar smell and in an instant my mind was transported to my grandparent’s house. I could almost feel the carpet as I watched wrestling, with Grandma in her chair and Granddad in his.

I can still remember just about every detail of their house, I can tell you where every piece of furniture should be. I spent many hours exploring every inch of their house, and I’m sure that I have seen everything from every possible angle. Well, there was one room that I can’t say that about, The Parlor. I can only remember going in that room one time and I was quickly drug out by my ear.

It was a beautiful room; it was not the living room, because there was no life in the parlor. I know that there was an organ in there, a giant wooden record player, and couches covered in shiny plastic. The plastic was there to protect the couches, but I’m sure they were no fun to sit on. Now, I’m not anti-plastic slip cover, so don’t get mad if you have shiny plastic couches.

Remembering Grandma’s parlor made me wonder: How many Christians have parlors in their lives? Sure, we gave our lives to Jesus, but did we really turn it all over to Him? Maybe we have collected some sins that we like, that aren’t “that bad” that we have wrapped in plastic and told Jesus to stay away from. Jesus wants full access to our lives and we cannot experience life to the fullest unless we allow Him into our “parlors” and let Him clean those out too.
So come on in Jesus, we kind of like our shiny couches but we love You more.