Last week, I learned that the estate of my girlhood Sunday School teacher was being sold. Through the years she had also became my friend and a mentor who always had time to discuss the things of God. So, hoping to find a memento or keepsake, I made my way to her home. The family was nowhere around. An estate sale firm was managing everything, cars filled the driveway and street.
Everywhere, people were searching through the house and garage; opening drawers, rooting through cupboards, cabinets and bookshelves, and climbing to the topmost closet shelves. If they were children, you’d have said they were snooping. One lady carted off a box of vintage patterns. (I later learned she’d sell them on the internet.) A man had a big box of electrical wiring items, still in the packages. Another woman snapped up an exercise machine. Someone else wanted her garbage cans. Everyone was finding bargains!
With a set of four new handkerchiefs, several greeting cards, (my friend’s tastes were similar to mine,) a piece of cookware to match and complete my set, a flour sifter, an original copy of "The Phenomenon of Pentecost" by Frank Ewart; I headed back through the living room with my "finds" to check out.
No, wait! There on a shelf was a pile of music I’d missed… and a complete set of choir books from the church I grew up in! I could not believe the family had bypassed this trove! Not only did it have sentimental value, but I’ve often heard how difficult it is to find a complete set of the songs our choir sang. This collection spanned twenty five years at least – from the late thirties until the early sixties. No one was paying any attention, but my heart was full. I approached the checkout lady wondering what she would charge. When the price was set at 50 cents a piece, I paid them and hurried my stuff to the car before they could change their minds...
Then sat there a while with thoughts springing up, like Jack’s beanstalk seeds... All the things my friend deemed important, the accumulations of a lifetime, yet she no longer needed them. First, they’d been sorted through by family, then pawed through by strangers in a three-day estate sale. What would happen to the residue, I do not know, but it spoke volumes about what we think is important versus what really matters.
As I leafed through the three books of choir songs, childhood memories rolled as if on a screen; the power of God filling the sanctuary with a visible, blue-ish, smoke-like haze, faithful saints (long gone to their reward,) with hands raised and glory shining from their faces, Bro. Drummond’s broken leg healed right before my eyes, Spirit saturated services making the rafters ring with worship and praise, Bro. N.J. Bibbs (from Indiana) preaching, "Where Will Eternity Find You?" the night I was baptized, the sight of hundreds of white hankies waving in the air as we sang, "In the New Jeruaslem," Sis. Helen Anderson singing, "You Must Be Born Again!", and Bro. Andy Campbell singing the lead-in song for the Sunday afternoon radio broadcast, "Pentecostal Fire is Falling!" with the announcer’s voice over, "Christ Tabernacle Church in beautiful Royal Oak, Michigan is on the air!" Vignettes of a godly heritage and its eternal significance brought tears of thanksgiving and worship.
Then came a question: Is this Truth up for sale in your estimation? What price do you place on the treasure of a clean conscience and sins covered under the Blood of Jesus? Do you appreciate the sacrifices that gave you this golden opportunity? If you do not, someone else will perceive their worth and cart them away. Their gain – your loss... but what a loss! In the company of Esau, Demas, and the foolish virgins, there will be an eternity to remember and regret.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. Jesus spoke of "treasure hidden in a field" and "a pearl of great price." A good look at Jesus makes the things of earth lose their luster. To one who perceives His value, no price is too costly, no sacrifice too dear. Ask Abraham, ask Moses, ask Paul, ask the unnamed saints of whom it was said, the "world was not worthy." (Hebrews 11:32-40) The value you place on eternal things determines the value you'll place on anything else.
Everywhere, people were searching through the house and garage; opening drawers, rooting through cupboards, cabinets and bookshelves, and climbing to the topmost closet shelves. If they were children, you’d have said they were snooping. One lady carted off a box of vintage patterns. (I later learned she’d sell them on the internet.) A man had a big box of electrical wiring items, still in the packages. Another woman snapped up an exercise machine. Someone else wanted her garbage cans. Everyone was finding bargains!
With a set of four new handkerchiefs, several greeting cards, (my friend’s tastes were similar to mine,) a piece of cookware to match and complete my set, a flour sifter, an original copy of "The Phenomenon of Pentecost" by Frank Ewart; I headed back through the living room with my "finds" to check out.
No, wait! There on a shelf was a pile of music I’d missed… and a complete set of choir books from the church I grew up in! I could not believe the family had bypassed this trove! Not only did it have sentimental value, but I’ve often heard how difficult it is to find a complete set of the songs our choir sang. This collection spanned twenty five years at least – from the late thirties until the early sixties. No one was paying any attention, but my heart was full. I approached the checkout lady wondering what she would charge. When the price was set at 50 cents a piece, I paid them and hurried my stuff to the car before they could change their minds...
Then sat there a while with thoughts springing up, like Jack’s beanstalk seeds... All the things my friend deemed important, the accumulations of a lifetime, yet she no longer needed them. First, they’d been sorted through by family, then pawed through by strangers in a three-day estate sale. What would happen to the residue, I do not know, but it spoke volumes about what we think is important versus what really matters.
As I leafed through the three books of choir songs, childhood memories rolled as if on a screen; the power of God filling the sanctuary with a visible, blue-ish, smoke-like haze, faithful saints (long gone to their reward,) with hands raised and glory shining from their faces, Bro. Drummond’s broken leg healed right before my eyes, Spirit saturated services making the rafters ring with worship and praise, Bro. N.J. Bibbs (from Indiana) preaching, "Where Will Eternity Find You?" the night I was baptized, the sight of hundreds of white hankies waving in the air as we sang, "In the New Jeruaslem," Sis. Helen Anderson singing, "You Must Be Born Again!", and Bro. Andy Campbell singing the lead-in song for the Sunday afternoon radio broadcast, "Pentecostal Fire is Falling!" with the announcer’s voice over, "Christ Tabernacle Church in beautiful Royal Oak, Michigan is on the air!" Vignettes of a godly heritage and its eternal significance brought tears of thanksgiving and worship.
Then came a question: Is this Truth up for sale in your estimation? What price do you place on the treasure of a clean conscience and sins covered under the Blood of Jesus? Do you appreciate the sacrifices that gave you this golden opportunity? If you do not, someone else will perceive their worth and cart them away. Their gain – your loss... but what a loss! In the company of Esau, Demas, and the foolish virgins, there will be an eternity to remember and regret.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. Jesus spoke of "treasure hidden in a field" and "a pearl of great price." A good look at Jesus makes the things of earth lose their luster. To one who perceives His value, no price is too costly, no sacrifice too dear. Ask Abraham, ask Moses, ask Paul, ask the unnamed saints of whom it was said, the "world was not worthy." (Hebrews 11:32-40) The value you place on eternal things determines the value you'll place on anything else.
2 comments:
Beautiful sister--and inspiring. I love to hear about old time Pentecost and the saints that have gone on to their reward.
Great stuff!
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