Matthew 13:51–52

“And Jesus said to them, ‘Therefore every scribe who has become a disciple of the kingdom of heaven is like the head of a household, who brings out of his treasure things new and old.’”

New and old. There is value in both. Just because we have discovered that what once worked for our time with the Lord no longer fits our life doesn’t mean that we completely trash it and start over. The Father still values those quiet moments during our singlehood—the silent tears between you and Him, the sleepless nights calling out to the Father and wondering if you would even get to be a wife and a mother.

It is crazy that for some of us, it’s as if those times were a million years ago. They have been buried in the deep canyons of our memory, replaced with a different kind of sleepless night—one where diapers are piling high, eyes are sticky with exhaustion, and the faint—or not so faint—cries of a little one stir you to your feet.

This is exactly what we yearned for those many nights ago, yet we have forgotten how deep that yearning was now that we are in the midst of it. God the Father, however, has not forgotten those moments alone with us before our prayers were answered. He is patiently waiting for us to meet Him again, even if our hair is wild and we are unsure when our last shower actually was.

As I sit here this morning—two of my four children with their grandmother, one watching Bluey and the other rolling around trying to crawl for the first time—I’ve realized on a deep level how much I genuinely miss sitting in the presence of God. So much so that I’ve realized, rather than using that distance to draw near, I’ve used it as an excuse to try and hide.

Just as Adam and Eve hid in the garden because of their new knowledge, I hide in my chaotic life so that maybe He won’t see that I have completely and utterly forgotten who I am. That is the thing about an all-knowing God: even as He asks, “Where are you?” He already knows. And even as I answer, “I heard the sound of You in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid myself,” He still already knows.

He has known me from the very beginning. He knitted me in my mother’s womb. He was there with me before the beginning of my time here on earth. When He decided to create me, He knew every second of every day of my life. And He still chose to create me—even knowing during this season I would be cowering behind anything and everything to avoid dealing with my sin. And I do this knowing that I continue missing Him and our time together. What a wretched man I am.

Reflecting on the Scripture this morning, Matthew 13:51–52, I have realized that we should have old and NEW treasure. Our old ways of spending time in the Word are valuable, but our new ways should be valued just as much. They shouldn’t be written off as inadequate or less than just because we do not feel they meet a certain requirement.

If anything, it is comparable to the woman who gave her last coin. Before, we had an immense amount of time that we could have dedicated to the Lord. If you were like me, most days it was maybe an hour or so that you gave to Him. Now our 10 minutes could be the only 10 minutes we have available in the day, and that is beyond valuable to the Father.

So, let us stop hiding from the One who knows all. Let us give ourselves some grace and give Him all that we can. It may look like worship music blaring in the kitchen and dancing with the kids. It could look like a plea for help when little ones are discovering their own will. Our last 10 minutes could even look like a prayer for a better day tomorrow as we fall asleep. Whatever it is, it’s valuable, and it is necessary.