Don’t Toy with Me!

“We took the first bid. The entire collection sold for $200,” she told me.

My emotions were instantly set ablaze by her answer. “What? The entire collection! Are you serious? You stooge! Imbecile! I could have gotten more money at the pawn shop! You blew it!” I wanted to say, but instead I remained awkwardly silent for what felt like an eternity.

“Hello?” she asked.

“Yes, I-I’m here,” I grunted.

“Are you ok?” she kindly questioned.

Of course not. I was beyond anger. I was floating adrift in a sea of discord. I had trusted the wrong person to do the right thing. It was her job! Her job! She should have researched the value of those collectables! She should have believed me!

Truth was, the blame didn’t fall on her alone. I could have helped find a buyer. Done something online. I had to take some responsibility and reset my expectations—immediately. No, I certainly would not be considered a hero (I groaned).  No, the church did not receive a large amount of money (I cringed). Yes, she auctioned off my childhood for a measly $200 (I wanted to weep). I barely gathered myself enough for a gentle response.

“Yes,” I sighed. “I’m…glad you found a buyer.”

“Thanks for donating!” she replied, and our conversation ended.

I sat alone with a bitter taste in my mouth, but there was a bigger lesson lingering over me. My collectables had become an idol. Their true price was much less when compared to an eternity with Christ. I sighed once more and glanced at my TV. There were still older idols that needed purging. My toys and comics were only the beginning. This was going to be a long day.

“I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you to walk worthy of the calling with which you were called, with all lowliness and gentleness, with longsuffering, bearing with one another in love.”

Ephesians 4: 1-2