The Broach

It was a gift to me by a precious soul, who was trying to divest herself of so many “things” so as not to be possessed by them—and she passed them on with love and an open hand.  I was not into jewelry that much, so one Christmas I gave it to my mum.  I shipped it already wrapped to my sister in New York so they could carry it across the border, and I could save on postage.  It was in its place with all their other wrapped gifts when at the border they declared that each gift was no more than ten dollars—our family gift limit at the time.  My sister did not know that my package was worth much more than ten—probably more like three hundred.

Fashioned from 24K gold, pearls, jade, and amethyst, to my mother it was beautiful, but precious not for its commercial value—for I doubt she even knew—but it was precious because it was a pretty thing from me, and she valued me.  She wore it a lot, as far as I could tell, a cherished accessory.

I have it back now.

The broach was pinned to her jacket at the wake and given to me before the last closing of the casket.  She doesn’t need it where she is for it will pale compared to all the jewels in her crown.

This reminds me of the treasure we hold in this body.  We may value our life, but what kind of a treasure is it really?  We may be only dimly aware.  This adornment worn by my mum was nothing compared to the rich adornments of her life.  Her passion for Christ and to see souls rescued shone more brightly than gold and pearls, her consistent pressing on through difficult days, more beautiful than jade and amethyst.  Her spiritual adornments, she wore in humility and determination, and they far outshone anything that she could have possessed.

We enjoy our pretty things, but they do not own us.  We have been purchased by another.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us.

II Corinthians 4:7