Tuesday, January 22, 2008

The Letter Jacket

On special holidays, Amy and I usually do something really special and fun. On Labor Day, we painted. On MLK Jr. Day, we threw out-or gave to Goodwill-everything we didn't use to make room for "Little T's" closet. 

At least we can look back on our day, and see the results of our hard work. I mean, you can't really see the fruit of fun activities like going to the beach, or fishing (if you don't bring anything home to clean), or to a movie. But we can now look through the closets, and see something the closets hadn't seen in a long time: empty space and organization.
When I was going through the office closet (now it's "our office" and no longer "my office"), I came upon my High School letter jacket. That jacket represented hours and hours of hard work, running many miles each week-which made me look emaciated-to achieve the name, pins, bars, and awards 'forever' stitched on that jacket.

So at lunch time, I was very quiet. I became incredibly reflective. Here are two thoughts that came to mind:

1.) No one really remembers

No one besides my family will ever remember that I was district champ in the 800 meters my senior year, and anchor of the 1st place 4 X 800 relay. Winning races in Track became some of my main goals in life, and yet no one really cares anymore. Perhaps the achievements and accolades we all seek, though different than district championship crowns, will be forgotten quicker than we think. Respect from peers, big houses, possessions, any sort of 'glory' now will really not last. The sooner we realize that, the sooner we'll consider them rubbish (Phil 3:8), that we may truly seek the true Glory that comes to children of God in Christ.

2.) At the same time, memorabilia, isn't necessarily bad to hold on to. 

It can remain simply a memento, or even monument/Ebenezer (if it never leaves my closet) to remind me that God gave me the speed, endurance, perseverance, and opportunity (the previous district winner chose not to run my senior year). So instead of 'my glory,' it becomes a tribute to Christ. It was too hard to throw away. For now it will become a tribute to a different glory instead of the rubbish I had originally planned before lunch.

No comments: