For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
How could I be so attached to a hat? My yoke was one prong materialism and the other sentimentality. I treasured my turquoise blue running cap because my family had given it to me for Christmas. I loved it because it had “Under Armour” stamped on the front and so few of my earthly goods have such a prestigious label.
The second reason sounds superficial even to my own ear but yet I know it’s honest.
I was jogging along the Austin riverfront with my sweetie beside me. We chatted easily as married couples do when dialogue is unfettered by interruptions of children and cell phones. Midstride I heard the words of a passerby.
“I wish I’d worn a hat.”
The nudge in my heart was immediate, “Give her yours, Shannon.”
The idea was preposterous. The words passed my lips almost as a surprise even to me, “We have to turn around, Scott. I know it’s crazy but I’m giving a lady my hat.”
We jogged faster. The distance closed. What do you say to a complete stranger who didn’t even ask you for a hat?
“Excuse me, ma’am, I overheard you say you wished you’d worn a hat. I’d like you to have mine.”
No I didn’t change her life today. She was a well-dressed woman who had absolutely no need for my hat. The life altered in the exchange wasn’t hers; it was mine.
I muttered, “God bless you,” as we turned back the way we’d came. I loosened the grip on an earthly treasure and let God decide the fate of my hat. Indeed a life was blessed today but it wasn’t hers; it was mine.
I wonder about you. Is there a treasure you’re holding – time, routine or even money that would bless you more if unloosed? God passes the hat. The question is will we be willing to pass ours?