Tools and Treasures

I recently finished reading a short little book by a mom with a few more kids than me and a lot more wisdom.  In one chapter she talked about how God has given us our bodies as tools to be used not treasures to be forever preserved.  And it got me thinking about the other things in my life that are tools, but I treat as treasures.

For example.  I wish there wasn't a constant flow of food particles appearing on my floor.  I wish there wasn't milk drips and bugger smears on my couch.  I wish there wasn't mashed up goldfish and raisin carnage on the seats and floor of my car.  I wish my body could get more of the precious sleep (and exercise) that it so desperately needs.  But in order for those wishes to be granted, I'd have to sacrifice one very big thing.

My family.  I'm often frustrated that I can't have a house that's maintainable looking clean and orderly.  That my furniture has taken a toddler sized beating. That I have bags under my eyes.  And sometimes I take that out on my little family.  I forget that my house is just a tool. A place for us to stay and a backdrop for the things that really matter to happen. Like teaching and guiding and learning and loving.  I should keep it clean so that it's livable and enjoyable, but not stress out about it when it's just not possible.  Same with my car.  Same with my body. 

But instead I find myself often treating my tools as treasures and my treasures as inconveniences.  As things that mess up my tools.  How foolish.  When the time comes to give an account of my life I hope I can say that I spent myself on the things that should be treasured.  Not that I wasted it worshiping my tools.