A Pearl of Great Price
I was late getting my Christmas tree up, very late. With only five days left before Christmas, my husband and son pulled it down from the attic. I threw on a fraction of the decorations I normally use, and called it “good enough”. The big day came and went in a whirlwind, and I decided to leave the tree in the family room until after New Years. I hadn’t had time to get my fill of sitting in the glow of the lights during the quiet of early morning, sip my coffee, and read.
A few years ago, I had my daughter-in-law make some wooden stocking tags. On each tag is a cutout of a family member’s name which is painted white and secured to the brown stained tag. A piece of twine is looped through a hole at the top and tied to form loop to hang the tag with. Since i don’t have a fireplace, or anywhere to hang stockings, I use these as ornaments. For me, there’s something special about having everyone’s name nestled among the branches and illuminated by the lights. One evening after the holiday had passed, I observed my five-year-old granddaughter circling the tree. It only took a moment to discern her purpose as she made her way slowly around it. Our kindergartener carefully inspected the branches, eyes scanning each tag, in search of her name. Once located, the eager, expectant look, softened into a relieved satisfaction. She dashed away to play secure in the knowledge that she’d been included. Isn’t that how we all are? Hoping against hope we’ve not been forgotten or left out.
“We all are born into the world looking for someone looking for us”
I heard this quote a while back and thought of my grandson’s birth. I had the great privilege of witnessing his first cry, and saw him quieted when his mother drew him close to the heart he’d lain under for nine months. When the nurse whisked him away to be weighed and measured, he wasn’t happy, and he let everyone know it. As he lay on the table being poked and prodded, my daughter-in-law sat up and leaned toward the sound of his cries. Straining for a glimpse of her baby, she eagerly desired his return to her, and he, most definitely, wanted to be rejoined with her.
Many of Jesus’s parables tell of one who searches. The lost coin, the lost sheep, the prodigal son. Each demonstrates the value of what’s been lost by the diligent search carried out to locate it and the great joy experienced when it’s been returned. Jesus used these stories to illustrate the kingdom of heaven.
“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.”
A kingdom ruled by a king who left his throne in search of treasure so valuable he was willing to give all he had, even his own life, to possess it. Many times I’ve wondered what made that pearl so much more valuable than any other? Was it bigger, rounder, shinier? Or, could it be that the king’s desire gave the pearl its exceedingly great worth? We have a king, the King of kings, who so desired to have our hearts, our affection, our love, that He exchanged His throne for a cross, and made a way for us enter into a relationship with Him. We are the pearl of great price.
There are many times when I don’t feel that I hold any special value. Others seem more talented, more brilliant, more driven. In my mind, I disappear, unable to stand out from the crowd. Forgotten. Insignificant. Like my granddaughter, I circle the tree, eager to know whether I’ve been remembered, wanted. There on the branches, I find my name, written on the King’s outstretched hands, and understand the great price He paid on my behalf. He searched for me and found me, and I have found Him.