My friend was walking across a parking lot on a quiet evening and saw something shiny on the ground. He picked it up, and it seemed to break in half. It was two, 18-carat gold chains. Being in a hurry, he put them in his shirt pocket. While undressing that night, he forgot about his valuable find until he realized they weren’t in his pocket any longer. Staying up an hour past his normal bedtime, he searched his tool kit, his house, his truck, and backtracked almost to the parking lot. He went to bed angry about his loss and slept fitfully.
Rising early the next morning, he was still frustrated and took up the search again. The day did not go well as his thoughts turned to the gold chains over and over again. Just about 24 hours after his find, it occurred to him that he was fretting over something that didn’t even belong to him. The chains had been a no-payment, unexpected joy for a while. Though they had cost him nothing, he felt deprived by their loss. He suddenly saw how silly this was.
Everything we have, everything we have, is a gift for a day. Whether the possession was bought on the cheap, or paid for dearly, each is on a rental basis. Will we cry “my precious” like Gollum when we lose them, or will we thank our gifting God for the pleasure they brought while they were ours?