I went to an estate sale today, which would make the second estate sale I’ve been to in my life. I got some really good deals, one on an Ansel Adams coffee-table book.
A guy there told me the story about a lady who knew Ansel Adams personally and had several of his original prints. She had a yard sale one time and sold several of them for practically nothing. She basically gave them away.
It would be easy to look down on someone who does something like that. But if I’m honest, I do that everyday. I treasure those things that won’t last and I treat as worthless those things that are priceless.
Culture does the same. We are told to spend our lives pursuing things. We are told our happiness depends on more stuff, on things like titles after your name and having your name on the right list. After all, haven’t you heard the refrain “He who dies with the most toys wins”?
At the same time, we see the sacred profaned and the priceless treated as worthless. Young girls are told their bodies are meant for sex and if they really love someone, they won’t deny him. Young boys are told that sex is an act, nothing more, with no consequences.
We are selling our God-given birthrights for cheap. We sacrifice our integrity, our beliefs, and our convictions for a promotion or a better job, for a relationship, for a bigger house or better car. This society doesn’t put much value in a human soul.
God says that you are priceless. As one of my favorite illustrations goes, if the God who made you could pick you up and turn you upside down to show you where He signed you, then you would know your true worth.
You are worth more than a career. Or a relationship. Or a house. Or a car. You are infinitely valuable because God made you with His own hands and then redeemed you with His own blood. He thought you were worth dying for. Literally.
Sometimes, I honestly have a hard time believing I have value or meaning. The voices in the dark whisper to me that the world would be better off without me and that no one needs or wants me.
But if I listen, the Voice of Truth tells me a different story. It says that God knows my name and loves me and has plans for me beyond my wildest imaginations or dreams.
I hope you will listen to that same Voice that says good things about you and calls you Beloved. The One who says you were worth every bit of shame and pain and scars and blood spent for you on the Cross.