When I was a young boy, there was a place I would go in my mind, my heart, my spirit, that always made me feel at home. It was a place where I was content, where I felt incredible peace, where I heard the voice of God. I don’t know how I knew it was God, but I never really thought about that. I just knew it. I would go there often. Then, as the years passed, I didn’t go as often. Sometimes I even forgot about it. Sometimes it was as if I never even remembered it was there.
During college, I started to go back there. I remember one day going in the college chapel and sitting in the sanctuary eating a piece of red licorice, and feeling like I was sitting on my father’s lap. It was such a good feeling. It felt natural. In the near years that followed, I went there more and more. And more. And more. And as I wandered further into that place, one day I found a marvelous treasure. It was beyond what I could have ever imagined existed. And I wanted to hold it, and embrace it, and stay with it. I remember feeling how I didn’t want anyone else to ever know about it and at the same time wanting to tell the world about it. It was wonderful. It was mine.
Then, as things change in life, I began to focus on other things that presented themselves. And I went in their direction, still remembering that place and that treasure. That wonderful treasure. As more time passed, I began to wonder if that treasure was really intended for me. Then, at some point, I went to that place, and somehow, gradually, I buried it. Away from anyone’s sight, but known to me. And then, as more time passed, I started going to that place less and less frequently. And at some point, it was as if the whole experience became like a dream that never really happened.
For a long time I didn’t go back there. Even when the other things I pursued and even obtained had somehow passed, I didn’t go. I even think I had forgotten how to even get there anymore. After some time passed yet again, I began to remember that place, the joy it brought, the peace I felt. And yet I still wondered if that treasure was really still there. And I started to look for it again. I had glimpses of it from afar, but I didn’t know if I would ever reach it again. Then, something started to happen in me. All of a sudden, I started connecting to the memories of a place that felt so familiar, yet still seemed far off. And then it became more familiar again, and then, in time, I found my way back.
One day, when I went there, I remembered the treasure, and I spent time looking for it. And the more I searched the more excited I became as well as frustrated that I couldn’t remember where I had buried it. But the yearning to find it kept me searching. I went through fear that maybe it had been taken, that maybe it really was a dream, that maybe I had missed my chance and somehow it was now gone.
Then, when I let myself one day decide what I most wanted, I remembered where it was. And without saying a word to anyone, I went and sold all I had so that I could buy that place. And now the treasure is mine. And now that it is mine, I have discovered how it is meant for more than simply me.
Where is the place you’ve gone and maybe forgotten? Where is there a treasure you may have found and buried? Don’t give up on it. Find it. I think it will make all the difference in your life, and in the world around you!