Do you know what you value the most? Do you know where your treasure is?
Last night I had only been in bed for about an hour when the steady wail of the tornado siren woke me. I laid there for a moment to see if it would stop, but it soon became obvious that a tornado had been spotted somewhere close by, and we all needed to take cover.
My thoughts went instantly to my dad, alone in his home nearby, and probably sleeping right through the siren. I checked my phone and saw that the tornado had been spotted ten minutes ago (!), and was halfway to our area. I had roughly ten minutes to get over there, get him up, and help him into the basement.
In the interest of time, I suggested that we all just shelter with him, and everyone agreed. I was dressing while I located the things I knew I would need. My keys, my purse, and my phone, of course, and then for just a second I thought about what I might like to save if a tornado was going to take everything.
It’s a weighty question for anyone, and we play a version of this game as a conversation starter sometimes: “If you were stranded on a desert island, what one book would you take with you?” But this isn’t a game, and there is no time to think. You have to just make a decision and go, for if you delay in order to decide, you may lose your life.
My mind flashed back to my nephew, Ted, who is always thinking about preparedness. A few years ago for Christmas, he got every family group in our clan a “bug-out bag.” He had smallish totes stocked with things like matches, bandages, a fire-starter, maybe a flashlight–I don’t really remember. But what I did remember was the talk he gave to us before he handed them out.
“Someday you may have to leave your home without warning. You may need to stay away for a while, depending on the reason for leaving. It could be a flood, or a chemical spill, an enemy invasion. . .”
At the time, I recognized the value of what he was saying, but it all seemed so far off. This was before 2020, before the world went crazy. I remember thinking, how likely would it be that we would have to flee our homes, with absolutely no warning, and all we would have was what we could grab on our way out the door? Ted suggested that we all take that box and finish packing it with the things we knew would be important to us. Just in case.
Right. So where was that box? Never mind–I have only a second: What should I take with me in case it is all destroyed? My mind went to pictures of my kids. My camera! I always have it ready to go for my sunrise project, so I grabbed it. What else? I looked down at the table, and saw my Bible laid out for my devotions, and grabbed it. My glance fell on to the desktop, wistfully. There’s no way I could carry it–but the data stick with all of my work on it–I could take that. I shoved it into my jean pocket and ran out the door.
Yes, Dad was sleeping, so I woke him up, got the basement door open and checked to be sure everything was all right down there, and by then he was up and had his slippers on. The tornado was due in our area in a little more than two minutes. My guys still weren’t here.
Then Jim came in. “They’re on the way,” he said in answer to my look. He helped me set up the chairs in the basement, and helped my dad get settled, then started up the stairs again.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“I am going to get the boys.” he said.
I looked at the time, and we were in the last minute. I showed him the phone.
“I have to get the boys.”
“And if you go out there and the tornado hits, how will that help them?”
“I have to get the boys.”
As if summoned, they both appeared in the doorway, and made their way down into the basement.
“Where are the dogs?” I asked.
“We put them in our basement,” Beau said, shaking his head. “Mr. Darcy wasn’t happy.”
It was an unfamiliar situation for our old dog, but he would be all right for a little while. Hopefully, that is all it would be. When the rest of the chairs were set up, and everyone was settled, I checked the radar. The signal was terrible, and the screen took forever to load–or at least it seemed that way.
The wind picked up and we could hear something pelting against the side of the house.
“Is that hail?” I asked.
Tony shook his head. “Nah, it’s just rain.”
We all listened intently and waited for the radar screen to finish loading. Finally it appeared: The storm was right on top of us. We waited. We listened. We waited some more. I refreshed the screen and we waited again.
It suddenly struck me how silly I was for waiting for the phone to tell me what the weather was doing right over my head. I put the phone down, and we all joined hands and began to pray for the people who were in the path of the storm, for those who had already gone through it, and for safety of ourselves.
After we prayed, the whole atmosphere changed. The fear melted away, and we were just waiting. In fifteen minutes, the warning had expired, but no one seemed to be in a hurry to go back upstairs. I looked from person to person, and thought about the things I had brought with me in my mad dash out the door. What did everyone else bring, I wondered?
“My drawing stuff,” said Beau. He almost always carries a case with paper and pens so that he can draw wherever he is, and sure enough, it was there by his chair. I looked to Tony.
“My case,” he said. He has a computer bag stuffed with books, his laptop, pepper pills, (and who knows what else), and he carries it everywhere with him. Like Beau, he just brought the same things he always brings when he leaves the house.
“I brought my family,” said Jim. Yep, that was all of his focus, just making sure everyone was there and safe.
I showed them my treasures, and we all laughed. Not one of us brought matches, or a flashlight, or bottled water or food. But we each took what our greatest treasure was–at least, the treasures that we could carry.
I found out later on that Tony had picked up Grandpa’s car keys, considering that if the tornado hit the house, they would be lost, and he wouldn’t be able to drive his car. Tony was the only one who grabbed something for someone else.
Do you want to know what you really value? Wake up out of a deep sleep with the knowledge that you have ten minutes until calamity hits. What do you take with you?
There’s no time for considering what you should take, only what you will be lost without. That frantic mindset isn’t the best for making decisions, and later on we began talking about what we would have done if we would have had time to think about it. But that crazy moment is a useful tool for figuring out what you really value.
Because we fool ourselves, don’t we? Maybe our individual choices during the tornado warning weren’t the most practical, but we all learned what we value the most. Afterward comes questions like, “Is this the kind of thing I should be valuing?” and “Why do I spend so much time investing in things that I don’t really value?”
Maybe you didn’t have a tornado warning in the middle of last night, but one day, you might. Or maybe your town will be the one that has a chemical spill, or a flash flood. Now is your chance to be wiser than we were, and get your “bug-out bag,” packed with things that you know ahead of time will be useful in an emergency. You can have it ready and parked in the closet. Being prepared brings peace of mind. (Note to self: This means you.)
But more than that, the experience of last night’s rush for shelter made me thoughtful. I praise God that no one was hurt in our area, but they could have been. Last night could have been our last night on this earth. And what then?
We can’t take a thing with us out of this life. When our end comes–and it will come for each and every one of us–will we regret the way we spent our time? Are we thinking ahead for what life will be like for those we love after we are gone? And what about the future of our own soul?
Jesus said, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and thieves break through and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven. . .for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” Matthew 6:19-21
That’s practical stuff, there. Jesus is telling us to consider our long-term investment into what really matters. We brought nothing into this life and we can take nothing out, no matter how well we plan ahead. At least, we can’t take anything physical.
How then should we live?
The Fullers Four 