Pearls and Treasures.

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field.

When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.

 

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls.

When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.

 

–          The Parables of the Hidden Treasure and the Pearl,

Mathew 13:44-46

 

The tears come and go.

 

As I grapple with the pain this season, I have stopped resisting the tears, receiving them instead with acceptance and taking the opportunity instead to examine the reason behind them. There is so much to process, and at times it feels overwhelming. It feels like standing underneath the avalanche of a waterfall, amidst a deafening noise, trying to hear the song of a blackbird singing in the background. Nonetheless, though the pain comes in waves and piercing  pulses, I have also received, in increasing doses of clarity, an understanding of this necessary suffering.

 

There is so much to learn from pain, if only we allow ourselves to. The fact is, most of us would rather suppress and treat a gastric pain with antacids rather than examine the atrocious eating habits and stress levels in our lives; most of us would rather quell a stubborn migraine with immediate pain relief than reflect on our motives for being a workaholic; most of us, when faced with pain, would choose to ignore, suppress or kill the symptom without actually addressing the root of it.

 

I realized I had been managing or more accurately, suppressing this pain for not weeks, but months. After all, when one doesn’t need to face a stark reality head-on, it is always easier to distract oneself with something else. But now that the date inches closer, the surreality of the event is beginning to take more concrete form,  and the blurry outlines slowly darken and take shape to etch themselves in reality. It has become impossible to run away from, and I have started to accept this necessary suffering for this season of growth.

 

Each time the tears come on, I learn about something in my life which needs letting go of- my career (or whatever’s left of it), my self-identity tied to it, self-worth, friends, even an astoundingly profound attachment to personal items. Just the other day, just sitting at home realizing that I’d to say goodbye to this place we built together turned on the tears in no time. It was not as if I did not expect it- in fact, our whole lives have been built upon the knowledge that someday we would leave all this behind for a life in missions to serve the poor elsewhere. Why this sudden shock? Why this sudden response of pain? It just didn’t make sense.

 

Perhaps, distance and time were drugs, acting as morphine. Now that time was ticking past, so was the analgesia. Day by day, it becomes increasingly real, that there is so much of a life here that requires letting go of which my head, but not yet my heart, had understood.

 

“It’s only going to be a year. That’ll zoom by,” some had said dismissively.

 

But they do not realize, it could be two. And because of certain circumstances, it could be four, or more years. In a way, I am preparing my heart to accept that we may not be back for a long, long time.

 

Whenever I had read about the principle of holding loosely to material items, I felt I understood full well. After all, we don’t have a mortgage, a car or investments. I don’t have a diamond necklace or Prada shoes and coach bags to miss. What could be so difficult? But the tears still come, on and off, in torrents, as I thought about the memories we had built together in this home we live in right now, and what we would have to say goodbye to. Just the thought of us having to pack our lives into cardboard boxes again, not long after we had unpacked, has sometimes been dreadfully overwhelming. It wasn’t even the so-called “expensive” items I missed, but the things that I now saw had surprising value to me- my twenty-dollar dresses which clothe me and give me identity, my boxes and boxes of Thank You cards written to me over the years, my favourite books, my sets of watercolours and color-pencils… and the wall on which we painted our story on. All this, we would have to say goodbye to.

 

This entire process, has been a painful but enlightening journey of self-discovery.

 

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field.

When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.

 

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls.

When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.

 

–          The Parables of the Hidden Treasure and the Pearl,

Mathew 13:44-46

 Now, I read the above parable differently. Do I really believe that giving up this life I have right now is worth it for this hazy dream or fuzzy notion that I have about helping the poor? Do I really believe this is God’s call for our lives, so precious like a hidden treasure and a fine pearl of great value that it calls for a sacrifice such as this? Do I really?

 

And do I now see the fleshly challenge that lies before me, that I have been captivated by what this world has to offer- my Masters degree, praise, comforts, familiarity? No wonder the treasure is described as “hidden”. Now that I am slowly uncovering it, I am grappling with the great value of eternal life that it holds within and the very real price I must now pay for it, compared to the luxury and comfort and security of my status quo that my carnality fights to secure and defend.

 

In your arms last night, I was overwhelmed thinking about this all: How foolish my supervisors and directors must think of me- they had counselled me on several occasions to re-think my decision and consider further training (this revealed my attachment to men’s praise and our worldly definition of success); Did I leave all of this behind for a future I am not even certain that I will be a useful part of? (this revealed my lack of trust in God’s plan for our lives); What about all the friends and family and food and culture and familiar things I would have to say goodbye to? (this revealed my allegiance to my earthly relationships more than my heavenly relationship).

 

As you held me close to you and asked what was wrong, what was going on in my head that had wrung so many tears out, I could not put this all into words and so just laughed in between my tears and said, “I’m very shallow. I will miss my clothes, that’s all.”

 

To which you chirpily replied without hesitation, “And you’ll have a NEW wardrobe there in the mission field! It’ll be fun! You’ll dress like the locals!”

 

And I laughed. I laughed a genuine laugh from deep within my soul amidst my tears, because as always, you had seen the light and grasped the spiritual significance of letting go- when we empty our pockets, God always has something new to fill them up with.

 

You would know. After all, to come here to serve in the headquarters of an international mission organisation, you had to give up your regular job, sell your personal belongings (including your favourite snow-ski and triathlon bike- which I sneakily bought and returned back to you), say goodbye to all your friends and family and leave the beautiful comfort of your home with pristine snow which you love, colourful leaves of fall and the sights and sounds of a wide expanse of country…to come to a foreign land more than 20 hours away.

 

One evening, in utter randomness over dinner, you turned to me and said, “You know, I miss my home in Canada sometimes. But I tell myself it doesn’t make sense for me to do so because had I not taken the leap of faith to leave, I would never have ended up with you.”

 

You often joke, that I’m the “gemstone” that you found after leaving everything behind.

 

Do I have enough faith to believe that the kingdom of God and whatever God has called us to is of greater value and price than all that this present world here has to offer?

 

When I imagine the man finding the hidden treasure, or the merchant finding the fine pearl, I don’t see him sobbing or pulling his hair out. I see him struggling to contain his happiness, bristling with excitement, selling everything he has exuberantly, joyfully, because of what he has found. Everything else pales in comparison.

 

“ I would rather have you,” you smiled cheekily. “… than… my snowboard! Maybe that’s why it was easier for me to sell everything I had and leave my life in Canada behind. I knew I had something to look forward to- you.”

 

You beamed. I suppose, when we let go, God fills us more. He never shortchanges us, does He.

 

So even as I think about the things which need letting go, I pray that as I ruminate and reflect upon the value of what I need to say goodbye to, in tears, I will, like the man who found the hidden treasure and the merchant who found the pearl, be wise and sober enough to see how all that we have now pales in comparison to the eternal gift that God has in store for us, even if I can’t see it right now.

 

Then, only then, perhaps, will I, in between my tears, laugh the laugh of a joyful man who sold everything he had for something that exceeded everything he had ever had in his whole lifetime.

 

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field.

When a man found it, he hid it again,

and then in his joy went and sold all he had a

nd bought that field.

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls.

When he found one of great value,

he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.

 

–          The Parables of the Hidden Treasure and the Pearl, Mathew 13:44-46