Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Woven boxes. Cardboard boxes. Wooden boxes.
Metal boxes. Jeweled boxes. Ceramic boxes. Glass boxes.
And although they might be a varied as butterflies, they have this one thing in common.
They are boxes.
You are a box. I am a box.
Some of us are bedecked with natural beauty, a jewel-like appearance.
Others feel like moving boxes, scarred by rough treatment, defaced with permanent pen-marks.
Countless have erected a formidable metal barrier surrounding the heartbeat, the vulnerable.
Some feel as though everyone can see right through the glass of our exterior.
Yet despite the extreme discrepancies, we are all boxes.
What matters is the content inside.
Because without the treasure, every box is worthless really.
We all have an empty void that we need the God-treasure to fill.
The question is,
Does the God-treasure inhabit your box?