Giving Up, Gaining Everything

It’s been a huge transition with rebuilding my life after severing ties with the New Age. Of course, after any loss or change, there is going to be a period of mourning, and that goes for huge lifestyle changes as well. I have been feeling a little empty and depressed, and though I tell myself that it is normal, it is still not easy. Life isn’t easy anyways.

One of the hardest parts for me so far in this process was destroying or throwing away anything I had that had to do with the New Age, as I had some emotional connections to some of the items. For example, I had an angel tarot deck that I bought myself a couple years ago. I loved that deck, because not only did it contain some beautiful artwork, it reminded me of my childhood. When I was young, I had a dream I was sleeping on the lap of an angel, and she was tenderly stroking my head. What helped me was to remember that God came first. It was also a symbolic sacrifice I made where I was laying down my precious treasures I thought I had, and leaving them at the foot of the cross. I had to die to myself, as through my transformed heart, I was no longer my own. I’m purchased by the blood of Christ. By giving up what was precious to me, I gained so much more.

Jesus gave everything for me, even His very life, so what is stopping us from giving up everything we have to follow Him? Are our emotional ties, finances, security and such not more valuable than His treasures for us in heaven? Aren’t the greatest treasures from above? There is nothing, no gold or silver I wouldn’t sacrifice to increase my heavenly treasures. I found a poem that sums everything up:

In silent night when rest I took,
For sorrow near I did not look,
I wakened was with thund’ring noise
And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.
That fearful sound of “fire” and “fire,”
Let no man know is my Desire.
I, starting up, the light did spy,
And to my God my heart did cry
To straighten me in my Distress
And not to leave me succourless.
Then, coming out, behold a space
The flame consume my dwelling place.
And when I could no longer look,
I blest His name that gave and took,
That laid my goods now in the dust.
Yea, so it was, and so ‘twas just.
It was his own, it was not mine,
Far be it that I should repine;
He might of all justly bereft
But yet sufficient for us left.
When by the ruins oft I past
My sorrowing eyes aside did cast
And here and there the places spy
Where oft I sate and long did lie.
Here stood that trunk, and there that chest,
There lay that store I counted best.
My pleasant things in ashes lie
And them behold no more shall I.
Under thy roof no guest shall sit,
Nor at thy Table eat a bit.
No pleasant talk shall ‘ere be told
Nor things recounted done of old.
No Candle e’er shall shine in Thee,
Nor bridegroom‘s voice e’er heard shall be.
In silence ever shalt thou lie,
Adieu, Adieu, all’s vanity.
Then straight I ‘gin my heart to chide,
And did thy wealth on earth abide?
Didst fix thy hope on mould’ring dust?
The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?
Raise up thy thoughts above the sky
That dunghill mists away may fly.
Thou hast a house on high erect
Frameed by that mighty Architect,
With glory richly furnished,
Stands permanent though this be fled.
It‘s purchased and paid for too
By Him who hath enough to do.
A price so vast as is unknown,
Yet by His gift is made thine own;
There‘s wealth enough, I need no more,
Farewell, my pelf, farewell, my store.
The world no longer let me love,
My hope and treasure lies above. 
 
Anne Bradstreet, Upon the Burning of Our House

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