Photo by Christopher Flynn on Unsplash
I created a beautiful little keepsake box from scraps of fabric, photos, and drawings. Even added a few buttons over the years. Each represents a story, an experience, a time I saw Jesus and knew his love for me. A time my life was touched and changed. A time my soul was embraced.
My box is a treasure chest, a declaration of love and faith.
It’s taken me all my life to fill this box. I’ve told the truth in each cutting, color, shape, and arrangement. And yet there’s still room. Space for mementos of times with Jesus yet to come.
I’m sure you have a box, too, or a scrapbook, or a poster, or maybe even a written memoir. We each have our stories; plots and settings, characters and actions. Precious. Sacred memories.
If we could place our treasure troves on a table between us, what would we see? Would we recognize Jesus in one another’s scraps of fabric and paper, buttons and ribbons, splintered wood and rusting nails?
Or would we, as we do so often, struggle to see the Jesus we love in one another’s fragments and photos? Would we protest – “No, mine is all of truth. Yours a lie, a myth, wrapped in unrecognizable colors and images.
Perhaps there will be time, in heaven, before the banquet is served, when we’ll each place our treasure trove before us and share the Jesus we’ve experienced, each, in our unique ways.
Ah, wouldn’t that be wonderful, to see our beautiful Jesus in one another’s lives?