A number of years ago, in the sutlery I once owned, sat a beautiful wooden trunk with tapestry work on the lid, lined beautifully on the inside, and just the right size for an officer in the Civil War to keep things in. It sat there for 3 weeks, with seemingly no interest in it, except for my little girl who wanted it in the worst way. Every time she walked by it she would run her hand across the lid and tell me how much she liked it. Not as one of those vague statements, but more like a statement that said I would really, really like to have this.
Being she was so little, I thought it was just a passing fancy and that her interest would soon wane.
But, if anything, her adoration for it seemed to grow and grow, until at last I could not longer resist her desire. As I put it out for the third week in a row, she appeared at my elbow once again looking at it and admiring the big brass lock on the front, and with a small sigh she looked up at me. Looking down into her big beautiful brown eyes I told her if we do not sell it this week it was hers. Her face lit up with anticipation of her trunk, her beautiful treasure chest, in just a little more time finally being hers.
Saturday went by and it looked like it would soon be hers. Just one more day before it would be hers.
Sunday continued to look like her hopes would be soon realized. But then a man came in and bought it, walking out with pleasure on his face. There was no pleasure on the face of my little girl, she had just lost her treasure box, a few more hours and it would have been hers. Now it was gone. And disappointment was written all over her little face. My poor little girl, not a word said, but such sadness in her eyes. Resigned that her treasure box was forever gone.
Little did she know that mama had a plan. When I got home, I called the friend who had made the trunk. I asked him to make her a trunk the size of a hope chest. I gleefully waited for the arrival of the beautiful hope chest for my little girl. Arrive it did, and more beautiful than I had expected. Even my husband admired the work that was put into it. It was with much anticipation we waited for the arrival of Christmas to give it to her. Would she like it, would she hate it? The answer was a joyful squeal.
Now 14 ½ years later it still sits at the foot of her bed. Her special mementos are safely stored away in it. Like my little girl I have found myself frustrated when my small trunks of life slipped through my fingers only to find later in time they have been replaced with a beautiful hope chest. Just as I knew the longing of my little girl for her treasure chest, the Lord knows the longings of my heart, and as a loving parent He is never caught off guard.
Matthew 7:9-11 Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him? [King James version]
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