We all know moths can eat clothes and rust can eat metal, but the real message of Matthew 6:20 is that storing too many treasures is risky, and not just for the treasures.

But what about the second part of that verse, thieves breaking in to steal? It’s not just one, but multiple thieves. This week someone asked me, “Do you ever get scared living alone?”

I answered “no” but last night did have a flash-fear moment. While brushing my teeth in the upstairs bathroom, I thought I heard someone crawling on the roof. Since the room has a dormer window, the roof was only inches over my head, and in an instant of wild imagination, I pictured a furtive figure moving along the shingles toward the bathroom window with a desire to break in.

I took a deep breath and pulled back the curtain ever-so-slightly to take a peek, hoping I wouldn’t be nose-to-nose with a thief. And there on the snowy roof was the explanation: raccoon paw prints.

The Matthew verse about thieves isn’t meant to frighten us but to caution us not to store too much on earth that’s worth stealing. Scripture does tell us, though, there’s one category of stuff we’re supposed to store: treasures in heaven.

What is that?

As a little child I brought pennies to Sunday school knotted in the corner of Mom’s linen hankie, eager to unwrap them and drop them in the offering basket. I figured those pennies magically ascended from the basket to God’s home in heaven where he saved them for lofty purposes.

Then I grew into the double digit years, and common sense told me my offering coins were the definition of “treasures in heaven.” Now, however, I see God’s treasure is not money at all, although dollars can evolve into heavenly treasure by what they accomplish. The Lord does, however, let us know there’s a wide variety of other ways we can store it.

Helping someone who needs help is one example. And if we set aside something we wanted to do for ourselves in order to help that person, the treasure is a bit bigger.

We can also store heavenly treasure by making righteous choices when no one is watching us.

Another way is to squelch our natural selfishness in favor of demonstrating the nine fruits of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, faithfulness, goodness kindness and self-control). Each is a treasure in heaven.

I believe sincere prayer for the interests of others is also a treasure to God. And doing our part to explain the Gospel to those who will listen has heavenly worth, too.

Any time we act in love toward another, especially if that one is difficult to love, we’re safely storing something in heaven. In short, whenever we obey God, it’s a spiritual ka-ching no thief can touch.

Interestingly, some translations of Matthew 6:20 say, “Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven.” In God’s economy, what we do on earth for others just may end up benefiting us in the next world.

It wouldn’t surprise me at all if our loving Lord has set it up exactly that way.

“Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal.” (Matthew 6:20)

I Linnea, Margaret’s daughter) was a little concerned when I woke up this morning and saw that my mom hadn’t put up a new post. It doesn’t matter if she’s on a vacation, not feeling well, or up with friends until 2am. She always does a new post. I sent her a text at 6am (I have a 10-month old who woke me up at 5am) and tried not to worry.

At 8:30am, my mom wrote back and said their internet’s down because of a winter storm. “I drove all over at midnight trying to catch someone’s signal. It didn’t even work at the public library!” she said. My mom is very attached to you, blog reader.

Hopefully she’ll be back online soon, sharing the wisdom God gives her each day. I know this isn’t a real post, but I figured she’d still want me to wrap it up with a verse. I love you, Mom!

“So humble yourselves under the mighty power of God, and at the right time He will lift you up in honor. Give all your worries and cares to God, for He cares about you.” – 1 Peter 5:6-7

Thanksgiving has historically been Nate’s and my holiday ever since we got married on that weekend, 41 years ago. As holidays go, it’s a pretty good deal for the hostess with one big spread, no gifts and minimal entertainment. Guests don’t expect fancy French sauces or first-time recipes on Thanksgiving. Instead everyone wants the menu to be “just like always,” and so the cook can leave her cook books shelved.

Last year’s Thanksgiving arrived two weeks after Nate’s death, and we were all numb. Most of the family was still in town, though, so we went ahead with the dinner at our Michigan cottage, feeding 28 guests. I fought tears the entire time and could only eat a small salad.

This year my sister Mary offered to host the dinner, since her family would number 18 and ours only four. I felt like I had the day off, since my Thanksgiving prep was only two pies and a veggie platter. So at breakfast we lingered over our oatmeal and talked about memorable Thanksgivings of the past.

There was the year we moved a week before the holiday and hadn’t unpacked our big roasting pan when it came time to cook the 25-pound turkey. Because disposable aluminum pans weren’t around that long ago, we roasted it in a 1”-deep jelly roll pan with a watchful “basting barista” pulling off the juices just ahead of spill-overs.

We also remembered a Thanksgiving morning when we were greeted with 14” of snow, but unploughed roads didn’t keep a single guest away. Then there was the year we hosted several international students but couldn’t come up with red sauce hot enough to make their Thanksgiving fare palatable.

Two years ago I overslept and didn’t get the bird into the oven soon enough. When carving time came, the turkey choice was neither light meat nor dark but pink, a major dilemma for poultry. We carved away the outer edges and nuked the rest in microwaveable chunks, not a recommended technique.

While finishing our oatmeal, we all got serious remembering two consecutive Thanksgivings that could have turned tragic. In the first, Mary’s van was t-boned at high speed on her side of the car. An impact one foot farther back would have killed her. As it was, the front of her vehicle was sheared off, but she escaped with only a sore shoulder.

The next year another accident frightened the four youngest girls as all of us caravanned in five cars to a movie on Thanksgiving night. A lake-effect snowstorm had blown out of nowhere, making the roads extremely slippery. The girls’ Durango fishtailed out of control, spinning around and flying off the expressway. They smashed into a short piece of guard rail that just “happened” to be in the right spot, which prevented them from careening into oncoming traffic. Although the Durango was in bad shape, the girls suffered only a few head-bumps.

This morning as wild rains pounded the windows, we cleared our dishes and recognized how many reasons we had to be thankful. Every family has its unique holiday stories of mistakes, flukes and near-misses, but the trick is to pluck out every opportunity to lavish gratitude on the Lord.

After all, isn’t that what Thanksgiving is for?

“Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love
and his wonderful deeds for mankind.” (Psalm 106:21)