Around the turn of the century, a young boy found himself orphaned and living on the cold, unforgiving streets of New York City.
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He stayed alive by scrounging what scraps he could find in the trash bins behind restaurants. He wrapped himself in discarded blankets to keep from freezing and would find occasional work in boiler rooms or kitchens, more thankful for the warmth than for the few pennies he earned.
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One frosty day his wandering took him to a part of town he'd never seen before. Here, stately mansions kept their distance from the dirty streets. Rolling lawns and towering trees lined circle drives, where ornate carriages awaited passengers.
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He had never imagined such places existed. He gaped for long moments as an idea tickled inside his head. Summoning all his courage, he trudged up the first drive and knocked on the heavy double doors.
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A woman answered and seemed surprised to see a child.
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His heart turned over under his tattered coat, but he plunged on. "Ma'am. I don't have a home and I noticed you have a lot of room. Would you like a little boy?"
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The woman stared at him for a long time. Then tears misted her eyes and she stepped back and ushered him inside.
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Warmth from a crackling fire greeted him and tantalizing smells from the kitchen made his mouth water.
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The woman said that yes, she would like a little boy. Would he like to be her son?
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She commanded servants to bring him whatever he wanted to eat, and when he was full, she showed him to a room all his own with books and toys and more blankets than he would ever use.
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But when it came time for a bath, he drew back. The old butler reached for the torn and filthy coat he had worn for months, but the boy clutched it tightly around himself.
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"C'mon, boy. You gotta gi'me that. You got the finest clothes in the country waiting for you, once you get cleaned up."
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"No. It's mine. I might need it."
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The old man chuckled and a grizzled brow lifted. "Need dat? I don't think so. You know who jis took you in? Yor new ma is one of the richest ladies in the country. Nice, too. And she jis tol' me you's her new son. Her heir." He swept a bony arm to encompass the room. "Man, all this is yours now. Don't you get it?"
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The boy shook his head and clung more tightly to the coat. "No. I got a bread crust in my pocket. I might need that too."
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The old man shook his head in amazement. "You kin have anything in the kitchen anytime you want it. You don't have no needs any more. None. You jis hit the jackpot, boy! Why don't you enjoy it?"
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But the boy backed away and refused to give up his precious rags. And so the new heir to a fortune spent night after night, curled on the floor, clutching his smelly clothes to his shaking body, fearful that one of these strangers might try to take what was his.
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Are you doing the same thing?
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"But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the Sons of God...(John 1:11)
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If you're a child of the King, He has already provided everything you need to live abundantly. You don't need those trinkets from your past, the ones God wants to deliver you from.
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What smelly rag is keeping you from experiencing the life of joy your Father has planned for you? Is it really worth it?
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