I have a giant treasure box; it's called a storage unit. I, rather we, have all sorts of things in the storage unit. Some of them are mine and some of them belong to my husband, Danny, and some of them are ours together.
The things that are "mine" include high school year books that hold the admonitions of friends long forgotten to "stay just the way you are forever," "you're the sweetest girl I know," or "good luck to you and Danny," to name a few. The treasured memories of high school are safely tucked away in my heart, outside the pages of a year book. Then there are the college year books that basically carry the same instructions: "you and Danny keep loving each other, you're the sweetest girl I've ever known," and similar comments.
Also included in the storage unit are numerous LP albums of such great music as Smoky Robinson and The Miracles, The Temptations, The Four Tops, and on the list goes. I can hear a song from one of those albums and be immediately transported to a time of first loves and first kisses, a time when things seemed to be much simpler. When I hear the song "My Girl" I remember seeing Melissa and Kenny bopping so smoothly across the dance floor. They were such a cute couple back then and, as far as I know, they are still a cute couple. Music is such a good time machine for us; that's why we should be careful what memories we are linking to music.
Then there are the pictures. Pictures of myself and my brothers and sister as children. Pictures of my grandparents and parents. Pictures of friends and choir tours. Precious memories of special times in my life.
There is a rocking chair tucked into a corner of the storage unit. Danny bought it for me at an antique shop long before we got married. A dear friend of ours owned an antique shop and Danny bought it thinking that we would use it one day to rock our children; and we did. We even rocked our grandchildren in it. Beside the rocking chair is an old waxed coated barrel that was purchased at the same antique store. Another precious friend decoupaged it for us. We always think of Shirley when we visit the barrel in the storage unit.
Why do we hang on to "things" long past their usefulness? Why do we convince ourselves that we'll use it again one day? For me it is because these things are links to a wonderful time in my life. A time when I had few stressors beyond the next test or class project. They represent a life that Danny and I began when we were "mere children," at the ripe old age of 16 and 17. We basically grew up together and have a storage unit full of things to remind us of many of those good times.
My treasure box is certainly full. My life has been so blessed: wonderful parents, grandparents and cousins, brothers and a sister, many friends through the years who have laughed and cried with me, sharing the good and the bad.
But, with all the things in my treasure box, I am reminded of the scripture that tells me that I shouldn't build up for myself treasures here on earth where thieves break in and rust corrupts, but I should be building treasure chests in heaven where no one can touch what I've set aside. I think some of those treasures are the kindnesses I do to others in His name, the kind word that is said in His name, the cup of cold water offered in His name, being the kind of person He wants me to be.
I encourage you to look through your treasure box and see what you find.