
Matthew 13:44-
‘And he said to them, ‘Well then, every scribe who becomes a disciple of the kingdom of heaven is like a householder who brings out from his storeroom things both new and old.’
The heady scent of the lilies instantly took me back to the small room off the maternity ward, sat on the edge of the bed waiting for the contractions to really start and then noticing with horror the pollen stain on the hospital curtains. As if yesterday I recall wanting this bit over, to skip to the holding this long waited for child, the visitors, the celebration. I wanted to miss the pains of birthing go straight to the joy.
Our hearts are a storehouse of memories. Some live in the dark corners until something triggers us to bring it to the fore. Others live right by the door, fond and painful and are visited daily.
I’ve no doubt, like me there are many that you wish you could clear out of your storeroom completely, they aren’t pleasant to visit and you begrudge them space. Others we have forgotten are there but have perhaps tainted with their odour all those that have come after it. These are the ones The Lord likes to, in His time, draw out carefully to help us sanitise and heal them, renewing them into a God scented memory.
I think the most painful of memories are from when we have sold everything for fake pearls, the glossy perfect looking ones that haven’t been formed from hours of working round pieces of uncomfortable grit. Those times when it was a hollow glass bead of a relationship or a coated plastic motivation that has left us with the lustre chipped and flaking.
I think when we discover the real pearl, we know, but perhaps only because of the experience of those that were mere imitations of the real deal. This is the place where the Old bears as much relevance as the new. The reason we keep all these in the storehouse of our hearts, why everything deserves a little space.
Perhaps we don’t need the wisdom of Solomon to see that whilst we hold our unearthing of Christ as a pearl of great price, He in turn holds each of us as His, so much so that He purchases the field, at the cost of His very body and blood.