Gone the Way of Feathered Hair

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:19-21 (NIV)

I hit my pre-teen years just as the 1970s were coming to a close. 1978 was the year I turned ten. That was the year of hair with feathered bangs and sides along a part right down the middle of my head. Shaun Cassidy was my fantasy crush (He and I even had the same name-even though he spelled his name wrong!). My sister and I never missed an episode of Hardy Boys Mysteries on T.V. or The Donny and Marie Show on Friday nights. If Sean and I never panned out, Donny Osmond was a sweet consolation in my ten-year-old mind. I had no concept of a relationship; I only wanted him to sing to me once. I wanted to see those famous purple socks and hear him say, “Cute, Marie, real cute,” in person.

I showed some of my pre-teen snapshots to my girls recently. Their faces were a mix of true horror and pity as they observed my wardrobe and my hair. What I thought looked so fine back then looked ridiculous to them. I can hardly blame them–who knew one hundred percent polyester pant suits and plaid pants could be so uncool thirty years later? Some of the pictures reflect the decor of the day–avocado appliances, hideous wallpaper, olive green and rust seem to be everywhere.

How is it that what I longed for thirty years ago is now something I couldn’t pay someone to put in their house? Isn’t it amusing, girlfriends, how we knock out ourselves and our bank accounts to get that will be considered hideous in a decade or two? Our children watching reruns of HGTV in twenty years will groan at the color schemes, the furniture, and the amount of money that was spent for the look in the houses thought of now as showcases.

Maybe I should pick a different word than amusing. Really, it is sad. Sad the stress we put ourselves and our husbands under to get, get, get. And for what? Think about the last garage sale you had. How many times did you shake your head having to practically give away something you racked up a huge bill over? Our lives are frantic, stressed-out shams because we have to keep up with the neighbors. Have to have that new thing. Not sometime–NOW!

We need to step back and catch our breath for a second. Where does our value come from? It cannot come from anything material that is able to be moth-eaten, rusted out, or discarded in a dump because it is “out.” Our value has to come from Someone bigger than ourselves. The hottest thing today that we just have to have will be tomorrow’s garbage. If we are defined by our things, we will never get to the end. We will live and die exhausted, disillusioned, and having missed our purpose.

My wonderful Rob has often said, “The best things in life are free.” How true that is. Salvation in Jesus Christ is free. His joy is free. His fullness is free. His love is free, lavish, and without condition. He does not accept us because we are somebody. He makes us somebody–His own. His love will never go out of style. He blesses without adding trouble to it. He forgives on the basis of what He did and who He is, not because of anything we did or didn’t do. I can do nothing to deserve His love. He gives it freely. That is why He is the Savior for every human heart. He chose us; we did not choose Him.

And though feathered hair, Shaun Cassidy, and avocado appliances might be has-beens in the eyes of our society, we never will be to our God. His love will sustain us through the fads and fancies of fickle societies. He is there for keeps, never wavering or changing one iota. Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Jesus, thank You that You do not evaluate worth the way I do. Thank You that You still favor those who seek You with their whole hearts, no matter how hip or cool they may or may not be. May I treasure what You treasure. And may I stop believing the lie that I have value based on what others think of me. Your opinion is the only one that counts. Help me to remember that what I possess materially is just stuff. You are my true Treasure–one that will never go the way of feathered hair.