He lay huddled in his bed and sobbed - not the pillow-pounding, angry sobs of rage, but the soft, chocking sobs from a broken heart, His is a tender spirit, and during the Thursday housecleaning I had thought the time had come to throw away the wilted remnant of the flower he had picked on last Sabbath's walk. He had picked only one, not wanting to disturb the beauty of the cluster of color he had found, and now despite our care it was withered and dead.
I comforted him and tried to explain to him that this was the way our world is, that flowers and grass and trees and even people grow old and wither and die, but that when we get to the new earth things will be different.
But from my six-year-old there came the cry, "But I love this world."
Ah, Benny, I thought, don't we all. And we so desperately hold onto the remnants of some wilted desire, some faded pleasure, or some dying treasure, when a much better world awaits us. We spend our time clinging to the things of this world we love, and forget to take time to prepare for the better world.
Why labor for treasures that rust and decay,
That sparkle a moment, then vanish away?
Go rather to Jesus, with earnest desire,
And buy of Him, "gold that is tried in the fire;"
Salvation's a treasure of value untold;
Be wise to obtain it, for this is pure gold.
The gift of the Spirit, which all may receive -
The rapture of pardon to all who believe -
An answer to prayer when the heart is oppressed -
The hope of a crown, and a mansion of rest -
All these are bright treasures of value untold;
Make haste to secure them for they are pure gold.
- Anonymous