I've been rememorizing some verses which have been lost in the stack of index cards; their edges are bent and smudged, reminiscent of times where I loved the Lord better:

Do not store up for yourself treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourself treasures of heaven, where neither moth or rust destroy, and where thieves do not break in and destroy; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6.19-21

It is becoming the silent mantra I've repeated often over the past few days. My heart likes baubles and beads just as much as the next girl, but my heart has never had the real stuff of earth. The treasures which require mining, prying, polishing, and refining have never been mine. I say it's because I'm poor, or I haven't a person to give them to me, but He says that the poor in spirit shall see Him and He's lavished all the good things of the world on my carefully erected armor.

I've refused his pearls of great price in lieu of plastic imitation beads. I've stored up for myself hoards of supplies and forgotten that He is the only provision I need. I've made lists and checked them twice, trying to figure out if I've been naughty or nice enough, and all the time He has been waiting with treasures with hardly a regard to my behavior. It is moments like these that changing my mind comes in handy. I mean, literally, changing my mind and the way it works.

All too often I act like a steward; one who has access to all the great wealth, and moves it around with freedom and ability. But, in my belief that being a good steward is better than being a son, I've forgotten that He's called me son and that I do not simply have access and right and ability, I have the goods already. They're mine. I don't need to build treasures chests of junk when I have the stuff of heaven at my fingertips. He's that good.