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 My Pearl of Great Price

Just a little warning: this writing may not make a whole lot of sense to anyone but me. It is more of a personal writing that will be better fit in my personal blog/journal vs. a public forum. However, I am glad to share it with those who will read it.

My Pearl of Great Price

An honest look into the deepest part of my heart will reveal that I have no desire for worldly recognition. While I often attach my name to the things I write and the web pages I control, this is only done for the sake of creating a reference point and never in hope of gaining personal attention or glory.

However, I cannot claim the same in regard to the truth I possess. The truth I possess is of great value and is worthy of worldwide attention. This truth is my pearl of great price, and I want all men to recognize its beauty. I do not desire praise or recognition for owning the pearl; instead, it is the glorification of the pearl I seek. My desire to share the beauty of this gem compels me to knock on doors around the world in hope of finding just one who will appreciate its value.

I knock on door after door after door yet never find that which I seek. Most simply ignore my presence as I stand at their door, and those who do respond to my knock, fail to show any real interest in the treasure I possess. It is often acknowledged that my pearl is beautiful, but never does it generate the response and excitement it deserves.

Many a time, my audience at the door will apologize for their lack of excitement but then go on to explain that they already own a pearl of similar value and beauty. Skeptical to the claim that such a pearl as mine can exist elsewhere in the world, I will ask to see the stone that competes with mine. To my request they comply and fetch the treasure from their vault, but always, it is the same. The object they produce proves to be nothing but a poorly fabricated fake.

When this happens, I try to educate my gullible listener as to why their stone has no value. I hold my pearl of great price next to the imposter and point out the glorious and obvious characteristics of that which is real. My hope and expectation is that my listener will eagerly toss aside their trinket and purchase a share in the pearl I possess. But, never does my hope take flight. Instead, it is crushed by the reality that the owner of the trinket has no concern that they own a fake. Rather, it is expressed that they are content with what they have.

“It kind of looks like a pearl,” they will say. “And that is all that really matters to me.”

l leave these encounters quite grieved and discouraged. It never makes sense to me that one can fail to be moved by the beauty of what I hold. Yet, over and over and over again that is what I find. Eventually, the grief and discouragement will get the best of me. I will put my pearl away and vow to never show it again.

Such a strategy will work for a time, but eventually I will hear the pearl calling from my vault. In response, I open my vault to once more look upon my prize. As I see it in its entire splendor, I again find myself overcome with the need to show it to the world. So here I stand, pearl in hand, ready to go forth once more.

Tomorrow, I will display my pearl in the market place. I will rent my booth and take my place next to the other merchants of the world. If history can be used to predict the future, I know what to expect. My booth will remain empty as the other merchants struggle to keep up with their crowds. Unfortunately, the goods they sell are worthless trinkets, but the customers never seem to mind so long as the price is right.

If it is a really good day, one person might just stop by to examine the prize I offer. They will pick up the jewel, look it over, and take full notice of its beauty. At which time, they will ask “How much for your pearl?”

Then, I will reply, “It will cost you the same that it cost me ----- everything.”

At that time, my potential customer will pause and consider.

My heart never fails to burst with hope as this time of consideration takes place. “Just maybe,” I hope, “this will be the one.” But all too soon, I see the look of wonder shift to sadness. They will put the pearl down, then move on to the next merchant and purchase a white, round, plastic bead at a price they are willing to pay.

Regardless of these past disappointments, I hope for better things tomorrow. Just maybe - tomorrow will be the day the maker of all pearls will open up the eyes of the blind so they can see the glorious splendor of this jewel I possess.

Jason Holman
December 18,2014

 2014/12/18 15:08
Heydave
Member



Joined: 2008/4/12
Posts: 1306
Hampshire, UK

 Re: My Pearl of Great Price

Jason,
Thank you for that. What a priceless pearl He is!

In Him is hidden all the tresures of wisdom and knowledge and in Him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bodily.


_________________
Dave

 2014/12/18 16:17Profile
dfella
Member



Joined: 2010/7/9
Posts: 295
Canton, Michigan

 Re:

Thanks Jason, I definitely as well as others I am sure bear witness with what you have expressed. As I was reading this it reminded me of a parable that has been circulated for many years.

WHO'LL TAKE THE SON

A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.

When the Viet Nam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.

About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.

The young man held out his package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this."

The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.

"Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."

The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.

The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection. On the platform sat the painting of the son.

The auctioneer pounded his gavel. "We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?"

There was silence. Then a voice in the back of the room shouted. "We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one." But the auctioneer persisted. "Will someone bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?"

Another voice shouted angrily. "We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!" But still the auctioneer continued. "The son! The son! Who'll take the son?"

Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. "I'll give $10 for the painting." Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. "We have $10, who will bid $20?"

"Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters."

"$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?"

The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.

The auctioneer pounded the gavel. "Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!" A man sitting on the second row shouted. "Now let's get on with the collection!"

The auctioneer laid down his gavel. "I'm sorry, the auction is over."

"What about the paintings?"

"I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. The man who took the son gets everything!"

God gave his son 2,000 years ago to die on a cruel cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is, "The son, the son, who'll take the son?" Because you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.


_________________
David Fella

 2014/12/18 17:36Profile
ginnyrose
Member



Joined: 2004/7/7
Posts: 7534
Mississippi

 Re: My Pearl of Great Price

Thanks for sharing.

It is this lack of interest by others where I tend to get discouraged and wonder if my love is getting cold because of the iniquity of others? Have also learned that unless the Holy Spirit is working in that heart what we say will have no immediate results. It may be something the Holy Spirit will use at a later date to convict. Remember the verses that talk about casting your bread upon the waters and after many days it will return? Know what happens when you throw bread unto water? It disintegrates. Totally. For it to come together as bread after many days requires a miracle. This concept encourages me. All we are called to be is faithful. That is all. God gives the increase - he alone is responsible for it.

God bless.

Sandra


_________________
Sandra Miller

 2014/12/18 17:54Profile





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