When Letting Go Stops Hurting
““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.”
— Matthew 13:44-46 (NIV)
Jesus said these two short things indoors, to his own followers, after a day of speaking to crowds down by the lake. Ordinary country people had nowhere safe to keep savings and no bank that would take them, so they dug a hole, hid what they had and kept the spot to themselves. If the owner died, or was carried off in a war, what he hid stayed exactly where he left it, and a stranger could turn it up years later with a spade. The ground in the first picture was not the finder's, which is why he could not simply carry off what he had found: he had to own the soil before he could own what lay under it. Selling up, for a working family, meant the tools, the animals and the roof, with nothing waiting underneath to catch them. Pearls in that century were the top of the luxury market. Pliny the Elder, a Roman naturalist writing then, put them first among all costly things, and they reached the Mediterranean by ship and caravan from the Persian Gulf, the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean, hundreds and in places thousands of miles away. The Greek word behind the second man is not a stallholder but a dealer who traveled for his stock. Once you see what is worth more, handing over the rest stops feeling like a loss.
Time goes to things you never chose. Part of the day was never yours to spend, and that is fine: it is the loose piece, the one that slips away on its own. Maybe you come back to your room, sit down on the bed, and an hour goes on scrolling before you decide anything. Maybe the television runs from morning so the place is not silent. Maybe you stay at work longer than anyone asked today. Maybe you straighten the same things for the third time. Jesus is not asking you to grit your teeth, only to see first what is worth the minutes.
Trade one habit for fifteen minutes
- 1Today, the first time your hand goes to the phone or the remote out of habit, put it down and give the next fifteen minutes to one of these four: pray, really talk to someone, whoever is in the house or on the other end of a call, read the Bible on paper or in the app with nothing else open, or get into bed fifteen minutes earlier tonight.
- 2If there is honestly no quarter of an hour in your day, take five minutes inside something you are already doing: pray while you wash up, while you feed someone, on the way somewhere. Five minutes you actually chose still count; what matters is choosing them, not how long they run.
God, a lot of my time goes to things I never really chose. Some of the day is not mine to spend, and that part is not the problem. It is the rest, the part that slips away while I am not looking. Show me what is actually worth those minutes today. Help me put something down once and give the minutes away on purpose. Amen.
Today I catch my first reach for the phone and give that time to something that actually matters.
Why buy the whole piece of ground instead of just taking what was buried in it?
Because the ground was not his. Walking off with what lay under someone else's soil would have been taking another household's property, and he knew it. Owning the ground was the honest way to make the find his own.
How valuable was a single pearl in the first century?
Pearls sat at the very top of the luxury market. Pliny the Elder, a Roman naturalist writing in that century, put them first among all costly things. They reached the Mediterranean by ship and caravan from the Persian Gulf, the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean, and the dealer in the second picture traveled for his stock rather than waiting behind a stall.
Does this mean I am supposed to give away everything I own?
The point is what makes letting go possible. Both men saw something worth more, so the loss did not feel like a loss. Start with fifteen minutes today, not with your house.