Moth, Rust, and a Mouse-Nibbled Blanket

It was a sunny day in September, and my family had decided to sort through some things stored away. We had moved several years before, and many of the boxes we pulled out that day hadn’t been opened since we took them off the truck and stowed them in the garage.

My goal that day was to pare down what was in those boxes, and hopefully consolidate what was left. But although I did sort through and thin out the collection of ancient pots and pans inherited from a grandmother, and parted with a few dolls and stuffed animals too dilapidated to pass on to my little niece, it was a difficult task.

These were the important things—not useful for daily life, but too precious to get rid of, even in the purging before our move. Each item held a store of memories, unlocking a chapter of childhood not quite yet forgotten, and with each box I opened, I found a new reminder of a person, a place, a season of life that laid a brick in the foundation of who I am today.

It was a bittersweet day, with many remembrances of loved ones now in heaven, and many reminders of dreams I had spun as I played with the toys and later collected household items still stored away for “someday.”

The saddest moment of that day, however, was when my dad brought out a cardboard box that had been chewed through by mice. As he pulled out various things from the box, one thing he pulled out instantly caught my attention. It was the baby blanket my mom hand-wove for me. My heart sank as my dad showed me the jagged holes where the mice had chewed through the intricate pattern. It was irreparable, and quite filthy, and I had never disliked mice more than at that moment.

Things we own here on earth have a way of becoming treasures. But those treasures are all-too prone to disaster.

When I was in my early teens, my aunt and uncle went on a trip to England and brought me back a lovely porcelain box, which I initially thought was the whole gift. They urged me to open it, and inside was a thimble from Windsor Castle. Going to England had long been a dream of mine, so to have something actually from there thrilled me!

Earlier this year, a book flopped over on a shelf and sent the box flying, shattering as it landed. Though I hadn’t given the box much thought in recent years, I felt its loss, partly because both its givers are now in heaven. The thimble survived, and is still a treasure, but the box itself was special, and I felt the irreparableness of its loss.

But that’s what happens to earthly treasures. Matthew 6 tells us:

“Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:

But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:

For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”(vv.19-21)

This may be a familiar passage to you, but as I read through it in preparation for this blog post, I noticed that the paragraph actually doesn’t end here. There are two more verses:

“The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!” (vv. 22-23)

The next paragraph continues Jesus’ teaching on our relationship with “things,” stating the truth that we cannot serve two masters, but while that passage makes sense with verses 19-21, I had always taken the two verses inbetween as something standalone, on the general theme of keeping our focus on God, but in a different realm.

But the more I thought about it this week, the more I saw the connection. Our treasure determines the focus of our hearts. Just as our whole body is without sight when our eyes are obstructed, so our hearts are without the light of Christ in our lives when we place our earthly treasures in a place of honor between us and the Lord.

Dear Reader, what are your treasures today? I admit, I still have many earthly items that are precious to me, but their perishable nature reminds me that those things must not be my focus. Let’s ask God today to help us see where our “treasures” have blocked out the light of His presence in our hearts!

“And ye shall seek Me, and find Me, when ye shall search for Me with all your heart.”

Jeremiah 29:13