"Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:
But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:
The message behind these words has been on constant repeat in my head for the last week. Todd and I are not rich; in fact, we're still struggling to deal with our current situation. We live in his parents' basement, our car is currently non-functioning, and we have a mountain of debts looming over us: credit cards, student loans, and medical bills. At times it's tempting to slip into the comforting oblivion of despair and mourn our poverty. Yes, it would be nice to have an earthly treasure trove with which to make our dreams a reality. I would love to have a house of our own with a spacious kitchen where I can store all of our appliances and dishes, a beautiful bedroom with an adjoining bathroom for Todd and me, a couple of bedrooms for the kids, bright windows to let in lots of fresh air and sunshine, a living room large enough to entertain family and friends, and a backyard where the girls could play safely and where I could grow a few plants: raspberries, lilacs, strawberries, tomatoes, and lilies. I would love to be able to stay at home with my children and make cookies, bread, clothes, baby food, music, art, stories, snowmen, etc. I would like to have a car made in the current decade so that I could be sure of it starting reliably and needing relatively few repairs. I would like to get Todd's motorcycle working again because I know he misses it. We're grateful for what we've been given, but I would love to be able to buy my girls new car seats, high chairs, cribs/beds, swings, toys, and clothes instead of accepting hand-me-downs and cast-offs. I want our family to be healthy, happy, and independent. I don't want wealth (well, not too much, anyway!), but I crave security and comfort. It doesn't seem like such an impossible dream, but sometimes it seems wildly beyond our reach.
Then, I think of these scriptures, and peace enters my soul just a little. Sure, we're not wealthy in the eyes of the world. We're barely scraping by. But we are rich. I have treasures. One of them is named Evangeline, the other is named Elizabeth. They are both so precious to me. Evie has a sparkle in her eyes that outshines any diamonds, her hair is softer than any silk, her skin is smoother than any velvet, and her laugh is sweeter than any music. She embodies sunshine, and I love holding her in my arms--my own little piece of heaven. Whenever we're apart for too long, I become a dragon: uneasy and on edge until my treasure is within my sight again. My greatest fear is somehow losing her. I haven't met Elizabeth yet, but I already feel the same way about her. Feeling her kick and move brings me peace, and I start to worry just a little when I haven't felt her in a while. Fortunately, she is lively and strong, and kicks often so my anxiety is largely at rest. I know it will rage forth, however, once she is born and away from my protective gaze, just as it does with her big sister. I would sell all that I have and suffer dreadful agonies if it meant retaining the privilege of calling myself mother to those precious little girls. I love them more than words can describe.
And I love their Daddy. He is my other treasure, my soul-mate. He is such a good man: hardworking, intelligent, loving, caring, funny, and worthy. I love being his wife, and I am eternally grateful that he asked me to marry him forever and gave me a beautiful ring to seal the bargain (yes, I do have one earthly treasure that is more precious to me than all but my heavenly treasures!). I'm thankful that, because of the covenants we made to each other and to God while kneeling across a temple altar from one another on a beautiful July day three years ago, we can have our family be together for all eternity. That together we can "lay up" our treasures in heaven where they can never be lost. My inner dragon is calmed by the thought that, even if I lose my children here on earth, I am still sealed to them forever and can hold them again. Calmed only slightly, but enough. This week, I've been comforted by that assurance. No, I don't have lots of money, but I have something even better: I have a family.
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