My husband once had a dream of selling antiques. He went to auctions and accumulated stuff for many years. Matthew 6:19-21 reads, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
True. Truer. And truest.
If I hadn’t grown up a tough country girl, I doubt I’d be able to handle this job. I’m thankful for having tossed manure out of the barn and chicken coop. I’m thankful for being accustomed to wearing a mask.
We filled a dumpster in March from the basement and various places. Unfortunately, dear hubby stood on a dry-wall bucket and hurt himself in an accidental fall. He readily admits his folly in both “storing up those treasures” and being careless.
Heaven’s treasures look better to me every day.
Rust and vermin. Quadruple “Oh my.” Aside from sorting salvageable/repurposeable objects from ruin, I’ve run across questionable bones, skeletons of mice, and even the hide of a possum. Raccoons have made the top floor of this building their habitat. I’m thankful arthritis keeps me from climbing up there. (I have no idea who will clean that space.)
These solitary hours have given me lots to think about. I do the sorting outside the building where birdsong is my music and purple iris among other flowers ease the impact of what my gloved hands touch.
I’m so thankful Jesus joins me in every task, carries me through each chapter, of my life. Plus, the knowledge of where I’m headed.
Moses said God was like a home
We say home is where the heart is
Romance writers pen a soul mate as home
Home to me is the farm where I grew up
I’ve been in my present home 44 years
The acreage is too much work now
For five years I’ve dreamed of downsizing
I want a brand new town home
Deep in my heart I know earth is not home
My soul cries out for heaven, my true home.