Treasure: Part 2

A couple of weeks ago Joshua completed his undergraduate degree from Georgia Tech and will start Grad school in the spring. He decided to walk at the graduation ceremony and I got to attend and cheer him on :) Well, when all the kids were walking across the stage shaking hands and receiving their fake diploma decoy, I noticed that some of them were wearing cords or other special adornments that signified that they had achieved something special other than just their degree. They had been involved on campus and had went above and beyond the expectations placed over them, and could now proudly wear there achievements for everyone to see. I realized, with a sinking feeling, that I probably wouldn't receive any cords from my time at Georgia Tech, there would be nothing to set me apart from the sea of black robes, to signify that I did something meaningful at Tech besides just study. There would be nothing to label me as special. 

When I was a kid, I would have done anything for a sticker. You can ask my mom, potty training was super easy because I was so easily enticed. I loved the feeling of being set apart by distinction, of being rewarded by something that everyone could see that marked my success. Even today I LOVE getting stickers on my tests when I get a good grade, a lot of professors don't use them, but I always hope. When I was in high school, my scholastic achievements were my greatest accomplishments, and during my high school graduation I got to wear my titles (literally) so everyone could see how much I had accomplished. That I was talented and special. Above is a picture of my friend, Kara, and I before our baccalaureate ceremony. I was an honors student, I had perfect attendance, I was the president of beta club, I was in national honors society, science national honors society, and a dance society. I was a very decorated graduate. 

 

Sitting at Josh's graduation, I realized that I would be very bare of honors and titles at my college graduation. I wish I could say that I am humble enough that the thought didn't phase me, but that's a lie...I felt...ashamed, that I had somehow failed. But it's not like I haven't done anything meaningful with my time. I may not be the president of any club or a part of any special society, but the Lord has given me so much influence with young people on my campus. To love them, to serve them, to guide them. He has put me with wonderful roommates, given me true friends within my major, and a wonderful group of girls to be their big sister. It seemed utterly unfair that I cannot get cords or sashes for those accomplishments...that I cannot stand and be recognized that I accomplished something meaningful (in fact, MUCH more meaningful than everything I did in high school) during college with my time. That I didn't just sit around playing video games and watching movies. I invested in people, I wanted to see growth and change in the people I loved. 

 But then it hit me, this is the practical application of storing my treasure in Heaven. It means that I don't always receive recognition from men. The bible says those people who seek the recognition from people "have received their reward in full" (Mat 6:2), but the God who sees me and my heart says "My reward is with me, and I will give to everyone according to what he has done" (Rev 22:12). Even though I don't get a fancy garment to wear, I have done what God prepared for me to do on this campus and I have tried to serve Him faithfully, and the reward for that is with God in Heaven. That's a pretty big bummer for the girl who'd do anything for a sticker. But like I said in my last post, nothing can destroy that treasure because it's not on Earth, nobody can take away the Lord's delight in my life. You could look at me and call me a failure and say that I didn't try hard enough, but it doesn't matter because my treasure is in Heaven. Also, the Lord's reward is so much more satisfying and constant than basing my value on the fickle, ever-changing emotions of human beings (including- no, especially myself). I choose to find joy in storing my treasure in Heaven, to delight in investing what's valuable to me in the Lord and not in the world.

Don't hear me wrong. There is nothing bad about receiving recognition from people or wearing cords at graduation or receiving honors. I think it is a wonderful thing to reward people, to recognize their service, and to encourage them with praise. But the danger comes in the heart of the matter. What motivates me? What drives me? In high school I ran around like a crazy person, being involved in everything so that I could put those things on my college application. And I put in countless hours of work to receive the cords and awards from those positions. In college, I give my time according to what God has put in front of me, the people He has given me to shepherd, the lessons He has given me to learn or to teach, the things He has for me to accomplish. A friend of mine recently asked why can't you have treasure in Heaven and on the Earth? I don't think it's possible to serve two masters. I don't think there's a way to split the basis of your value in two, half for what God thinks, and half for what men think. There is only room for one master to rule your motivations, your decisions, and your measure of success because the world and the Lord define them in two distinct ways and you cannot serve both.

So on my graduation, I will bear no honors or titles or awards other than my diploma, and I will cross the stage smiling with joy knowing that my reward is SO much better than a silly piece of fabric or rope that I won't think twice about when I've graduated. Knowing that my value and my treasure is stored safely and securely with my Lord in Heaven, knowing that when I face Him one day to give an account of myself He will smile and say "Well done my good and faithful servant!" (Matt 25:21)

Thanks you, Jesus