Tip of My Iceberg

I’ve never been a big fan of garage sales.

It feels very personal to pick through other people’s stuff, determining its value based on my need or whim.

I find I evaluate the people selling it based on how they’ve priced it and cared for it.

I don’t like people doing that to me.

I’m also lousy at bargaining.

I do love it when John comes home with little finds because he’s willing to go through junk to find treasures. Then talk the seller down to a price he’ll pay.

John went treasure hunting at a community garage sale. With Ethan and Sydney. Discerning shoppers.

Most everything appeals to them.

Much of what was purchased was clutter. Stuffed animals. Trains. Things that stay with us when kids come to play.

What impressed me was the giant teddy bear he got. Tall enough for  long  and lanky Syd to cuddle with. Big enough for Isley and Ryken to hide in.

I could imagine the conversation as the value of keeping the bear was debated.

Mom: “Why don’t we sell him? He takes up so much room. It’ll give you more space if he’s gone.”

Child (who hasn’t touched the bear in years): “But he’s mine!”

Now he’s ours. In a few months, when the novelty of his size wears off, and I get tired of sticking him in random closets and corners, I’ll be the one whining about getting rid of him.

Life is a giant garage sale. We’re constantly acquiring stuff and getting rid of it when it stops working, the novelty wears off or we discover it was a mistake to buy it in the first place.

Like the exercise video I had to have to look buff. I used it once.

The electric gizmo that now sits in the appliance graveyard under my counter because I never figured out how to use it.

The long black skirt I needed for dressier occasions that I’ve never worn in the three years I’ve had it.

We’re consumers at heart. Engaged in the get and get-rid-of cycle.

It’s why I’m rather flaky with the valuing of things.

I never want to become that way with people.

In our world, it happens.

The homeless man on the street. The refugee fleeing from an unjust government. Those overlooked folks who have special needs and challenges. The hurting and afraid. The marginalized and invisible.

Those who are different from me.

God sees the value in each of us. Having created each of us uniquely, He never callously discards anyone.

He redeems the hurt and pain in our lives. He sees us when we feel unseen. Grabbing us from the “everything for a nickel” table and giving us the value He finds in us.

Eternal and beautiful.

If we choose to be His.

There will be those who decide to remain apart from God’s love and involvement in their lives. Their choice.

Me? I’m grateful for a love that sees me as more than I see myself.

I’m His treasure–no matter what anyone else thinks.