Rock Mountain National Park

Rock Mountain National Park
Timbercreek Trail Head

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Inheritance is a Test of Character



When my dad died, he left only his business and the house. There was no life insurance policy or any savings. My mom sold the business and went to work, entering the work force at 58 after a lifetime of being a stay-at-home mom. When she remarried, she sold the house. Two years later, she had Alzheimer’s. My mom was in a nursing home for several years at a cost of $5000.00 a month. Whatever she earned from selling the house paid for the nursing home, plus we suspect a lot came out of our stepdad’s pocket, but he would never tell us. My siblings and I had no inheritance other than a few rings, a few pieces of Delft, and a Hummel collection. Nobody really cared. Why? Because we had an inheritance that nobody could ever take away from us. 

My dad sold eggs door-to-door for most of my growing up years. My mom stayed at home and raised five kids. Yet somehow, they managed to put five kids all the way through Christian school. I have no idea how they did it. My mom made our clothes and we ate a lot of eggs. I had no idea how poor we were. We never went on vacations and we practically never ate out. We certainly didn’t shop at Marshall Fields. But I never knew the difference. When my dad started the Chicken House, things were a little better, but even then I was expected to pay for my own clothes and stuff I wanted. The point is that even in our relative (first world) “poverty,” we were rich. We had an inheritance that we would take to the grave and beyond. 

Paul says that anything that isn’t Christ is rubbish. Jesus tells us not to store up stuff on earth. Anytime we get stuff that we did not earn, it is a test of character. Back in the sixties, a family in our church was destroyed because when their mother died, the girls fought over her stuff and couldn’t reconcile. They wouldn’t even get together for Christmas because they couldn’t look at each other. Not something I wanted for myself or for my children. I hope I taught them better than that. While I would like to leave some things behind for them, I hope that Christ is enough. I hope they learn to hate the things that destroy families and bring dishonor to Christ. 

Recently my mother-in-law passed away and the kids have the job of going through all the stuff and setting things in order. She would have hated that herself. The stuff had no hold on her. She was a woman who wanted to do nothing more in a day than listen to her beloved hymns and hear sermons on tape from her church. Her heart was already elsewhere. Here are the words to one of those hymns:

When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it Lord that I should boast, save in the death of Christ, my God!
All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them through his blood.

If I know my mother-in-law, I know that she wants the same thing for her children that I want for mine. She wants us to pass the test. She wants Christ to be enough. But we all want stuff. We do—there is no denying it. We are tied to this earth and we want to hold on to stuff, especially stuff that reminds us of her. We believe that this will console us in our grief. The question now is whether we will come to our senses in time to realize that only one thing will tie us together for all eternity—Jesus Christ. For the sake of Jesus Christ, can we sacrifice the vain things that charm us most? Can we pass the test?