Parable of the Garage Sale

Gadgets and “collectables,” to bring us earthly pleasure,
We surround ourselves with these… that we consider treasure.
“I’ve always wanted one of these”, and “look how much I saved!”
That moment of euphoria… convinced we’re not enslaved.
How is it that these items, when purchased, were a must,
Become somewhat annoying… every time we dust?
As time goes by we realize we’re running out of room.
Once treasures, now they’re clutter… delight turns into gloom.
So all the stuff we once hauled in, we’re hauling out the door,
Time for a garage sale… we don’t need these anymore.
Much to our delight, folks come and haul it all away.
We ponder what to buy… with all the money made that day.
And so, the dance continues, our collections ever growing,
Cars won’t fit in their garage… the closets? Overflowing!
Then comes the realization, this house isn’t big enough,
We’ll have to get a bigger one… we need more room for stuff.
So we shove it all in boxes, for the hauling and the stacking,
Of course, we’ll have a moving sale… we’re overwhelmed with packing.
It’s time to re-evaluate, the treasures of each person,
The inventory massive… soon the attitudes will worsen.
Deciding what should stay or go, each temper quickly flares.
It’s obvious to each… my stuff’s more valuable than theirs.
Once moved, it’s quite amazing, that before we’re done unpacking,
We’re desperate to collect more stuff… we now believe we’re lacking.
“Tomorrow I’ll get organized”, the mantra of the day.
Then I’ll have time for other things… then I’ll have time to pray.
Meanwhile, in the corner, a pile of boxes stacked,
The ones, that since we moved… we never managed to unpack.
The all consuming quest for more, we won’t admit defeat.
Filling up our lives with stuff… that we would feel complete.
Our hearts are not unlike the seed that’s sown among the thorn,
Between the worries of the world, and riches, we are torn.
Hearts and minds held captive, could this be Satan’s ploy?
Earthly treasures, fleeting pleasures… meant to steal our joy.
Scripture says, where treasure is, our hearts will also be.
Hidden in a box… the light, that’s meant to shine through me.
More concerned with what we have, instead of who we are.
Not considering the Potter… what He placed inside the jar.
Priorities misplaced, along the stressful path we trod.
Seeking wealth and trinkets… instead of seeking God.
Provision by my hand, produces only emptiness.
The one who seeks the Father… is the one that’s truly blessed.
Lord, let us see how meaningless, are these, for which we thirst.
Let our path lead straight to You… and always put You first.
Help us be the soil in which Your seed would strongly root.
A planting of Your splendor… a witness, bearing fruit.

Received by Cheryl Winchester