Pot of Gold
The rain battered the windshield. I would have pulled over, but through intermittent whiteouts, Nate forged ahead back to Boston after our visit with his sister in the Berkshires. As the MassPike curved through the beautiful landscape, an amazing sight broke through the clouds. A glorious rainbow. It blasted from beyond this world a reminder — at that very moment — that storms do pass and better days will arrive. But this rainbow stretched before us was unique. It began on the hood of my son’s truck. Although no tangible evidence existed, we were the pot of gold!
As I snapped photos and roared with excitement, a Grand Canyon-like awe swept through the front seat. “How is this even possible?” I exclaimed. It was a divine encounter that sent electric shock-like chills through my body. No gold treasure filled the pickup, but at that moment, I felt like the richest person in the world.
As we drove with rainbows surrounding us for the remainder of our three-hour journey I wondered, “What is my pot of gold?” I smiled when I realized that my greatest treasure was indeed at the end of this rainbow — not on the hood but next to me in the front seat and also, earlier that day, in the backseat. My pot of gold is my children — Nate and Carolyn. It makes perfect sense. For over 20 years, I had poured my love, time, and resources into their lives as a stay-at-home mom. When someone would ask me what I did “for a living” I would proudly proclaim, “I’m a mom. It’s the best job in the world.” It was more than a job; more than a role. Being a mom became the core of who I was — being a mom became my identity.
While this may sound perfectly fine, and you may even be tracking with me and happily embracing your own similar identity as a mom, I must warn you that it only works for about 18 years. Then they leave. Your role drastically changes. Becoming an empty nester brings the immediate revelation of how tied your role of a parent is to your identity. It can be devastating or liberating. Mine was a bit of both. But over time my new life emerged, and days became increasingly more freeing and clarifying as I reclaimed my true identity — not as a mother but as a child of the perfect Father.
What is your pot of gold? With my past in the rearview mirror and my focus on the landscape ahead, I know for certain that it will never be tied to success, money, or even a person. My pot of gold is the Creator of the rain and the rainbow.
And what a blessing it was to get a front-seat glimpse and reminder of His glory — on the hood of my son’s old Ford Ranger.
“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21)