My Worth is Not in What I Own

I remember in disbelief reading part of the recantation biography of Jim Bakker called, I Was Wrong. In it he talks about watching on television his home in Tega Cay, South Carolina, burn to the ground from a prison cafeteria. The lavish $1M (in 1989 money) home represented much of what was wrong with his first ministry, and his response to much of what is wrong with his latter ministry. In his biography he agonizes over the loss of the home and what it represented in his life and family. His statement is telling, "Sitting in that prison TV room watching my former home crumble in flames was one of the most traumatic times of my life."

I read the entire worthless attempt at repentance with a judgmental eye, but I was especially exacerbated by the chapter idolizing his home. How someone could lose his ministry to the consequences of sin, his wife to an unfaithful friend, and his son to the secular culture and yet claim that the losing of his home (that didn't even belong to him at the time) was amongst the most traumatic events of his life was clearly a sin that had not been repented of.

But then Hurricane Michael happened. And I realized I had a log in my eye at least as big as Jim Bakker's.

Hurricane Michael slammed into Panama City last week. I called Panama City home for four and a half years, I met my wife there, my twins were born there. I purchased an old run down home near the Air Force base for half of what it was worth, and over four years spent countless hours and quite a bit of money repairing things that previous owners had neglected, and improving other things. I carried my wife across the threshold, my middlest daughter and both twins learned to walk there, we taught Bible Study almost every Monday for years, we transformed the office into the girl's room. I discipled young men in the living room, two dear friends helped renovate the garage and make it a useable space. I came to love the home there, which, albeit small, is jam packed with memories.

But then Hurricane Michael hit, and though we already sold the home and moved far north, it was still a crushing feeling to know that a house right on the bay would not survive the hurricane unscathed. And then a dear friend sent this picture:

It shows the garage decimated, a water pipe burst that has flooded the driveway, the roof damage almost guarantees that everything we did in the kitchen is destroyed. Even though we no longer own the home, it still uncovered a level of affection I have for this world that I did not even know I was still holding onto.

For my entire time in Panama City I was blessed to be a member of Carlisle Baptist Church in Callaway. I married my wife there, I was blessed to fill the pulpit several times, I watched young men and women transformed by the gospel, and I baptized one of my best friends there. But the roof couldn't handle a Cat 4/5 hurricane, and the church structure we enjoyed and loved is gone forever.

But a dear friend from that church said it best, "The church is the people, not the building." And that is true, the church building will perish sooner or later, but the living church will endure forever.

So why am I so downcast over the destruction of two buildings? While I would not say, like Bakker, that it is amongst the most traumatic events of my life, I will say that it is quite traumatic. And I'm not even there, or have a monetary stake in it, and as far as has been reported, all of our brothers and sisters have survived the storm.

My hope is not in what I own, and thankfully so, because in my life I've seen things that I have built or maintained (F-15E S/N 304 that I worked on a few years before it crashed in Libya) that I thought would last forever, but have quickly fallen apart. As a young man it was merely the words of Jesus that I was trusting when he said, "Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal (Matt 6:20)." As I've gotten older I've now experienced that verse and I trust it both because Jesus said it, and because I've experienced it at a far greater pace than I ever imagined.

The late Adrian Rogers defined human life in three epochs of temptation, the first being the temptation of the body (lust, laziness, violence, drugs/alcohol), the second being the temptation of possessions and position, and last being the temptation of fear and doubt.

I suppose I have officially transitioned into the middle epoch, and having identified it I must lift my eyes to Heaven to seek the kingdom that is to come. We seek a city to come, for here we have no lasting city.  My mind is a jumble in writing and recalling so many facts, but I remember that when prorating a house the insurance companies generally assume a house is a usable structure for 55-70 years. That is quite a short time span for a kingdom which we invest so much of our lives building. Let us then build up, with living stones, a kingdom that will endure for eternity, and will not be shaken.

Let us pray with Keith and Kristyn Getty, "When I cling to what I have, please wrest it quickly from my grasp. I'd rather lose all the things of earth to gain the things of heaven (Simple Living, 2011)." But at the same time, let us seek what will truly last:

Rescue the perishing
care for the dying
Jesus is merciful
Jesus will save
Church, open your eyes once more
and see what Christ died for
Jesus is merciful
Jesus will save. ~ Billy Foote, Rescue the Perishing, 2003