Mine, Yours... Mine Again

Moving on in Luke 12:32, God tells us not to be afraid (He refers to us as “little flock”) because it gives Him great happiness to give us the kingdom. In verse 33 He tells us to sell what we have and give to the poor because I can’t really store any treasures here on earth.

Like most of you, I have accumulated a great deal of things that have a fleeting value and an ever changing variable in regards to price. A signed baseball from a modern day Babe Ruth who broke all of the modern day home run records has a value of hundreds of dollars just a few years ago and is worth nothing today because we found out that he cheated in his home run quest. In fact, most of the sports memorabilia that I own would find its true value as kindling for our next camp fire.

I have a unique ability to buy high and sell low. I have several classic cars and trucks that just several years ago were at their peak (when I bought them) and today, the classic car market is “soft”, a euphemism for “nobody is buying”.

If you read the book of Acts, you will see that those early Christians did sell everything that they owned and turned it over to God and if it was possible to experience that fulfillment of scripture before my eyes, that would be so great.

The reality of the world that I live in is, “it is my stuff and you can’t have it”. Less than 6% of all Christians believe in tithing, believing like I believed most of my life, “it’s my money and no money grubbing preacher is going to get it”. In the old testament book of Malachi 3:10, bring your tithes to my storehouse so that there will be food in my temple and I will open the doors and windows of heaven and pour out a blessing so huge that you won’t be able to contain it. Then He says to test Him on this.

I have included a portion of an article that you can read for yourself on the internet at the following web address: Http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0IBX/is_6_10/ai_n6152883.


The article details the loss of worldly possessions through the eyes of a young girl who along with her family live through the devastation caused by a flood in their home town in Texas.

I've lived my whole life in Venus, a tiny town in Texas. Growing up, I always thought of my house as the safest, warmest place. My family had a large four-bedroom mobile home. It was big enough but cozy. My sister and I had our own bedrooms, and we had four dogs.

But the thing I loved most about my house was my room. It was just me. My walls were covered with a porcelain doll collection, sunflowers, a yellow VW beetle poster and tons of family photos.

Then last April 23, my world fell apart. My family's nightmare began when my parents and my 2-year-old nephew came to see me play French horn at a school concert honoring troops in Iraq. Midway through the show, an announcement was made: "It's reported that there will be hail and high winds. If you'd like, you're welcome to go." But everybody stayed to watch the show.

LONG RIDE HOME

After the concert, the storm was so intense my dad had to pull over halfway home. It felt like the winds would blow our van over. After we hit four detours, we were very worried. My mom said, "My house is gone--I know it!"

I said, "Mom, you're scaring me! You're blowing this way out of proportion." Just down the road from our house, a police car appeared. Then, we saw something huge in the road ... and realized it was our neighbor's house! I felt sick. Their entire house was a block away from where it had been! As we got out of the car, a neighbor drove by and said, "There's nothing there!" My mom fell to her knees, bawling. My dad tried to comfort her, but she was devastated.

We called my sister, who was out with her boyfriend. Luckily, she was safe. But we had left the dogs on the porch. My mom told me to stay in the car while she and my dad looked for the dogs. All I could see were downed power lines and my dad's 18-wheeler. I thought, "This must be someone else's truck," because my dad parks his truck next to our house. Then it hit me--everything was gone, even our house!

I wished I were dreaming and started to cry. But then I thought, "This isn't the time to fall apart." So I pulled myself together and tried to be strong. I sat in the van in disbelief, my nephew asleep in my arms. My dad returned and handed me a porcelain doll he'd found in a field. I cried like crazy. I was happy to get my doll back but, at the same time, I realized how much we'd lost.

It took over an hour for my mom to find the dogs, all in different fields. I was so happy when Beanie, my favorite, greeted me. That night, we slept in my dad's truck. We were just grateful to have somewhere to stay.

A STARK REALITY

I woke up praying it had all been a nightmare. But then I looked out the window and knew it was real. Red Cross and Salvation Army workers were handing out food and water. I learned that, thankfully, no one had died in the storm. And of all my friends, I was the only one who lost her house.

My uncle searched for our belongings, and found one salvageable item--our American flag. He and my mom believe our lives were spared because we had honored our troops that night. We flew the flag from our clothesline pole, the only thing left standing.

After three days, I went back to school. Everyone was so nice; one friend even gave me a shirt. That shirt will always be special to me. We only had the clothes we'd worn the night of the storm, so we got $400 from the Red Cross. We felt guilty taking it, but it was helpful. People constantly offered to give us things, but my mom hates handouts. We replaced just the essentials, like kitchen supplies, linens and a TV.

"HOME" AGAIN

We took up temporary residence in a one-room trailer. That was so hard, especially because all our dogs had to sleep inside since there was no fence.

We were totally appreciative to have a roof over our heads, but everyone was stressed. After three long months, our insurance money finally came through. We bought another house that we put in the same spot. The new house was great; it just wasn't home. Our old house was full of irreplaceable memories.

One thing I missed most was the feather pillow my grandmother gave me before she died. I couldn't sleep on any other pillow, and I was so upset. But my mom found it in a faraway field, and I swear it was a miracle. I truly believe I got the pillow back because my grandmother is watching over me.

WEATHERING THE STORM

The hardest part wasn't the loss of my things or even the house; it was watching my mom fall apart. That scared me, because it felt like my world had ended. She's always been so strong, and I thought she could survive anything. My sister moved to Arizona after the storm, so I decided to take over for my mom--cooking, cleaning, taking care of my nephew--to give her time to heal.

Even though it's been over a year, my mom hasn't fully recovered. So I guess my biggest loss has been the loss of my childhood. But the "best" thing that has come from losing everything is that I'm more independent and know I can survive anything. I have to admit that, for a while, I was really angry that I had to take on so many adult responsibilities. But as every day passes, my family is getting back to normal and I'm learning to be "the kid" once again.