Unhidden Treasure

I have a treasure box. It's a 9x5-inch wooden box from Lane given to me as a high school graduation gift from a furniture company in Pennsylvania. I think all of us graduates got one. I remember thinking that I would put all my most precious items in this box and lock it up. Recently when watching Pawn Stars on TV (we learn something historical everytime we watch this reality show about a pawn shop in Las Vegas), my husband and I wondered if we had anything old and of value that we could sell. I immediately dashed for my treasure box to see what was in there to make us independently wealthy.

Not surprisingly, I didn't find anything that was going to allow us to retire early. Elvis Presley 29-cent stamps (worth 29-cents each); Eisenhower silver dollars worth maybe $15; a Max Factor Easter Egg basket perfume holder (worth about $27 now); a jar of black sand from Hawaii my Dad's secretary brought home for me to see when I was in elementary school (worth, um, nothing); a piece of petrified wood; a tiny shoe button hook my grandmother used when she was 5-years-old; a 1943 silver penny (worth 15 cents now); a skeleton key and tiny 10K gold Victorian baby rings (that no one would put on a baby for fear they'd swallow it). It was fun to reminisce about the items, but needless to say, nothing in there to make our eyes pop open with greedy excitement.

It's funny what I thought was treasure. Polished rocks, the silver wings an American Airlines pilot gave me from my first flight, a huge costume locket from the 1970s with a mini picture of my family in there, tiny Avon lipstick testers from my grandma's days as an Avon Lady, the key to the city of Smyrna, TN, the late mayor Knox Ridley pulled out of his pocket to give me when he asked if I had one as a cub reporter in that city in the late 1980's and blocks I played with as a child. But I did find some priceless items in there. Like the picture of Brad holding me from behind with his hands on my pregnant belly with our firstborn Ayla growing inside. A prayer my father wrote for me. A note from the Tooth Fairy. A tiny gold pacifier I wore around my neck when pregnant with my son Anton.

Typically, I'm not a saver. If I don't use it, I toss it. Moving as often as Brad and I have, it's just not practical to be dragging a bunch of stuff you never look at around from house to house. But this box is one thing that I've held on to for whatever reason. I guess the idea of having a "treasure" box was just too cool sounding for me. Everything secretly hidden away.

Scripture tells us "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." Matt. 6:21. While pieces of my heart are in that box, what my heart holds cannot be contained in a tiny cedar box. The love I have for my Savior, won't fit in a treasure box and I certainly hope I don't hide it away like I have these trinkets. I hope what I feel for Christ, I share with the lost of this world. I hope they see the brilliant shine in my unveiled face to know how much I love Him. That is my true treasure.

I decided to take some things out of that box and actually use them, throw them away or sell them for what their value is today. If I have them locked up in a box, I wonder exactly how valuable they really are to me, when I can't even see them. I guess that's the point of our witness to God's children. If we are not sharing it, is it truly valuable to us? If no one can see your faith in your actions and words, then isn't, well, worthless?