Today in church we read the story of the rich young man, in Mark chapter 10. He comes to Jesus, to find out what he must do to have eternal life. He has kept all the commandments. He is pretty sure he is on solid ground.
Jesus looks at him. He loves him. He knows what is in between this man and God, what stops him from loving God with all his heart and mind and strength. Which is, after all, what Jesus says the commandments are all about. He tells him to sell all he has and give to the poor. Then he will have treasure in heaven.
The man is crestfallen. He is wealthy. This is hard.
Your treasure, and my treasure, may or may not be financial wealth. That may or may not be what's on the throne in your heart, where God should be.
I had put Family on that throne.
I love to spend my time planning fun days out for my family. Looking up exciting activities on Pinterest. Doing all the things I know as a former teacher will help them at school. Taking photos, reading parenting blogs... The list continues. These are all fine things to do, nothing wrong with them. It's good to love our kids and give them a great start in life, right?
Right. But I had my treasure right here. And although I took my kids to church and read the Bible with them and prayed, my heart was set on the wrong treasure, for them and for me.
Then epilepsy and autism happened.
I've written about that before. You know the story.
It sounds strange, even to my ears, to say that this was a loving act of God. I don't mean, and will never say to my children, that illness, loss, struggles are good. They are not. Epilepsy in particular chills my bones when I think about it. But if they didn't have this set of problems, they'd have another set. Everyone does, sooner or later. And if God allows those struggles to bring our hearts to his, then that is love.
God worked a change in my heart. He brought me to a place of utter dependency, of clarity, I suppose, to see the difference between treasure that fades and treasure that lasts. I can't have a perfect, healthy, trouble free life for my children. Neither can you, by the way. But thanks to Jesus, eternal life- life to the full- starting here and now, is within our reach.
I still spend plenty of time on Pinterest and parenting blogs and planning days out, camera in hand. I also spend time at autism workshops and hospital appointments. This is our new normal. I am very aware that other families for whom epilepsy and autism are daily realities never reach a normal of this level. I am grateful for every good thing and aware that this story could be so different.
But I have more peace. New medicines and setbacks don't affect me so deeply, because I know Jesus has us in his care. I'm excited about heaven. And I am blown away by his grace and love- to die for me, to reach out his hand to save me,then to make sure my hand was empty enough to grab his. Oh, and placing my children into his hands is the safest place for them.
What was it Bessie Ten Boom said? 'The safest place is at the centre of Gods will.'
We felt like we’d been sent to death row, that it was all over for us. As it turned out, it was the best thing that could have happened. Instead of trusting in our own strength or wits to get out of it, we were forced to trust God totally—not a bad idea since he’s the God who raises the dead!
2 Corinthians 1, The Message
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