Jesus told an interesting story about renting storage units. Actually the main character, a wealthy farmer, owned the whole storage facility. He’d built it because he was succeeding so dramatically he needed bigger storerooms to hold his harvests. His goal, sternly criticized by Jesus, was to store so much, he wouldn’t have to work anymore but could become a full-time party-guy.

Jesus labeled this man “a fool” because (unbeknownst to the farmer) he was going to die that night. Since he hadn’t made any plans for eternity let alone stored anything there, his afterlife was going to be dreadful.

Although I’m not wealthy and my storage dilemmas are all about a glut of household goods, the principle in Jesus’ story still applies: none of us should stockpile earthly treasure if it means forfeiting a rich relationship with God. Jesus wasn’t critical of the man for being wealthy; his severe judgment was solely based on the farmer’s trust in that wealth for happiness and security.

This farmer was keenly focused on his storage units. As rich as he was, he probably lay in bed at night wondering if animals might eat his stockpiled crops, if the weather would be good enough to produce a bigger yield the following year, and if he’d need to build additional storage units for future bumper crops. His mind was on his wealth, and his heart beat fervently for more of it.

Back in Matthew 6 when Jesus cautioned us not to amass earthly treasure but to deposit it in heaven instead, his main concern was not the treasure. It was that a focus on earthly possessions causes us damage, while attention to heavenly treasure gives us hope for a rich future. What we own today can captivate our hearts and consume our thoughts, pulling us from a heavenly perspective.

God wants us to center our thinking on what comes after this life, as the old chorus says, to live “with eternity’s values in view.” Scripture puts it powerfully, telling us wherever our stash of treasure is, whether on earth or in heaven, that’s where our heart and passion will be.

Many of us have to fight ourselves daily to keep our hearts in the right place. I’ve been tempted to view my children and grandchildren as my treasure. The majority of my emotionally charged moments have involved this group, and they have occupied much of my thinking. Mothering is an extreme delight, and my heart is with my children.

But by God’s standards, this treasure-balance is skewed away from heaven and toward earth. These “kids” aren’t really my treasure but his. I can, however, love them on earth in a heavenly-treasure sort of way: I can translate my focus on their lives into prayer for them and with them; I can testify to God’s greatness in my own life, hoping they’ll trust him, too; and I can point to God’s Word as the one anchor that’ll hold during life’s storms. In short, I can coax my children toward my life’s number one treasure, the Lord himself.

And if I should die tonight along with the farmer, my heart would be just fine with that.

“Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:21)