God treasures our sacrificial love. We show we love Him when we give the best that we have… The widow gave her mite. Mary spent her precious bottle of perfume. Cups of water given in His name count too. As the message came to a close its theme was brought home with a pointed question: "Does Jesus have anything of yours in His treasure box?"Without hesitation, the little fellow looked up from his coloring and responded matter-of-factly: 'Yes, He has my heart.' Few heard his little voice. But his mother, sitting beside him, teared up at his words. To her they were precious—an indication that he really understood the transaction he had made with Jesus several weeks previous.
It had happened on the walk to the school bus stop. How she hated to release her tender first-born to the wide cruel world in this way, but at least she could accompany him to the bus stop… She had baby brother in the Snugli and little sister in tow. And as they walked they couldn't help noticing the majestic billowing clouds on the horizon. It had made her think of Jesus' promise to return and to whisk away His children to meet Him in the air. And so they talked about that.
Would everyone go? No, only those who had invited Jesus to live in their hearts…Well her firstborn son sure didn't want to miss out on that. They had stopped and bowed their heads right then and there on that long dusty driveway under the shade of a big blue umbrella and they had done business with God. It was a simple beginning to a relationship with Jesus. But that child knew that Jesus had his heart, and counted it precious.
That was twenty-three years ago. The little fellow grew up to be a strapping young man—handy and hard-working, daring and doing all manner of things hitherto unheard of in his family. He was a dynamo, that boy. Everything he did was done with intensity. He threw himself into stamp collecting and odd jobs, magic tricks and juggling. He swam competitively and memorized AWANA verses the same way. He composed and performed rap lyrics that echoed long after the performance ended. He wrote unforgettable essays and plays--unforgettably revealing and convicting, that is. And eventually he graduated from high school and moved away to see what in the wide world he had missed in the protective environs of home…
Many things vied for his heart; it was a big one—strong, and eager to live fully. He embraced mistakes as an effective way to learn, and grew wise. All the while his heart was kept in Jesus' treasure box. Try as he might to give it away to lesser things, the reality of his childhood decision pulled him back. He himself would remind his anxious mother of the reassuring proverb that a child well-trained will not turn away from his upbringing. And his mother watching from afar gradually let out her breath and thanked the Lord for keeping this one's heart in His treasure chest. And she watched as her son became the devoted husband of a God-fearing and beautiful wife, and the affectionate father to his own little ones.
And as she watched, she prayed… This was her calling. This is her calling still. Her first-born's 29th birthday is coming up. She is proud of all that he has become and is becoming. She feels privileged to have been called to the role of "mother" to this whole-hearted son. And as she watches God's hand at work in his life, she stores up all these things in her own treasure box. And one day, when Jesus comes in the clouds to whisk His children away, she will present it to Him in gratitude for letting her share this small part in furthering His Kingdom.
Happy Birthday Son!
I am confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus!
Who is the faithful and wise servant, whom his master has set over his household, to give them their food at the proper time? Blessed is that servant whom his master will find so doing when he comes. Mt.24:45,46
But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart... Lk.2:19
"Thine is the greatness and the power and the glory and the victory and the majesty… all is thine." I Chr. 29:11