You know with the start of a new year, I was just taking a moment to think through life and some of the things I did while growing up. This morning the first thing that came to mind was my little gift to God. So, with that I thought that I would pass along a quick little story.
I remember one day a long time ago in Sunday School feeling an overpowering desire to put together a box of toys and various special “things” for Jesus. I am sure it had to do with the lesson we had that morning, but I wanted to have something “in my hands” when I met Him.
I was just a little kid – 7 or 8 years old. But my mind was in Jesus mode, so I ran home and found a wooden box my grandfather had given me that held all of my crayons. Crayons were my life back then, but I dumped them on the floor and started to put together my pile.
My pile consisted of things that I cherished back then. Things that I wanted to give to Jesus when I meet him. A small pocket bible, a pot holder I had made, a matchbox fire engine (well worn to the point of falling apart), a rock I got in Colorado, an arrowhead, a piece of gold, a ribbon for winning a race in school.
As I look back, I can see they were not my “perfect things,” but each of the items I placed in my newly claimed box were related to fond memories connected to various points in my life. All of them were things that I wanted to share with Jesus. A gift just for Him.
And you know what. I still have this box. I open it from time to time and look at those childhood treasures. I have never taken anything out of it. It is still fully intact sitting on a shelf in my garage. Sitting and waiting for that moment when I met Jesus.