This morning, I headed across town for one last look at the house I grew up in. There was a unique piece of furniture I needed to get out of the house—a coffee table made from an old wagon wheel. It had been made by a former pastor of ours who was dear to our family. In fact, he was the pastor who baptized me many years ago. I’m not sure why I felt compelled to take that coffee table. It certainly doesn’t fit in with the décor of my current home (we’re not rustic, western, cattle ranch people). Most of the 1970’s era furniture had been sold at an estate sale or given away in recent weeks, but I put my name on that wagon wheel table, and it was time to get it out. My husband and son-in-law lifted the heavy table (the base is a wooden rain barrel, and the top is a circular piece of glass) and loaded it into the bed of his truck as my daughter and I took a last look around the now empty house.

I thought of how excited I was to move into that house as a young teen knowing that my bedroom had been painted to my specifications—the walls a lovely shade of lavender with an accent of purple flowered wallpaper. My parents even had a sink and vanity built into a little alcove of the room. Given that I was the only girl in the family, I was so happy to have that special place to call my own.

The memories flooded back of family dinners, holidays (I brought my newborn daughter home from the hospital on Thanksgiving Day directly to that house where the family had gathered for Thanksgiving dinner), hosting our youth group for parties and Bible studies, playing board games with friends and family, and walking the nearby lake with my dad. It was a great house.

The amount of stuff we removed from the house after my mom died was incredible—closets, attic and garage, stuffed to the gills. We found a trunk that contained some of our baby clothes, boy scout and girl scout uniforms and Halloween costumes! When we first opened it, the smell of mothballs overpowered us (the mothballs worked, however, as there were only a few moth-eaten areas). It was fun reminiscing as we traveled back in time pulling things out of that steamer trunk. It did remind me of a certain scripture that I thought was applicable:

 “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in and steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:19-21 (NASB)

I have saved similar things from my own kids’ childhood. Mothers are like that. We want to hold on forever to the wonderful memories of babies cooing and toddlers laughing. We hope that one day, these items will bring our kids a measure of joy when we’re gone. But when we hold on to material things too tightly, it reveals a heart that’s more tethered to the earth than living for heaven.

Someone once said, “The game of life is seeing who can collect the most stuff and when you die it all goes back in the box.” In other words, spending your life collecting material things is all in vain. We will not take even one suitcase to heaven. God’s Word says we need to spend our energy and money on those things that will last—things like serving those less fortunate than ourselves, giving to missions to spread the gospel around the world, taking time to get to know people and to care about what’s going on in their life, growing in our relationship with God by spending time in His Word and in prayer. A sacrificial life of generosity and service is the life we are called to as believers. There’s no getting around it.

“Do not love the world or the things of the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride in one’s possessions— is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world with its lust is passing away, but the one who does the will of God remains forever.” 1 John 2:15-17 (NASB)

It is sweet to keep a few things from the past. It brings us warm fuzzy feelings and helps us remember special times. Trying to find fulfillment or to keep up with our peers by buying more and more stuff as we go through life is not so sweet. It reveals a misguided heart.

I hope I can find a place for my wagon wheel. I have a couple ideas. I’ve been trying to declutter these days due to the fact that my grown kids are not especially sentimental and each have their own decorating style (unfortunately they’re not western chic either).

Have a great week!