Friday, April 27, 2007

On sofas and dreams

When my husband and I married, we had very little furniture between us: an old iron bed my mom had retrieved from the barn at my great aunt's and painted, a mattress set my parents paid like $99 for when I went off to graduate school, a couple of dressers, and a pink sofa we purchased from a friend for $50. Yes, pink. Actually, I think it was called mauve. Mauve and country blue were the decorator colors du jour, can you believe it?

As newlyweds with not only very little furniture, but also very little spending money, one of our favorite "dates" was going to eat Mexican food, especially if I had scored a buy-one-entree-get-one free coupon on the back of my grocery receipt. After eating, we would usually go to Sam's and window shop. Or go to the mall and window shop. Or, my favorite, go to a furniture store and, you guessed it, window shop.

In the Sears store in the mall, at the top of the escalator, was the sofa of my dreams. Any opportunity I had to go to the mall, I would go visit "my sofa." It was my dearest wish upon which all my hopes resided: to one day own this piece of furniture beauty extraordinaire.

I never did. At some point, my then sister-in-law gave us her old sofa and love seat (the love seat I still have today), and out went the pink, in came the hand-me-downs, and the dream sofa? Gone as so many dreams go.

Today I was driving down the highway en route to meet my husband for lunch. I passed a used furniture / junk store and what do you think was out front, there among the baby cribs and dinette sets? You got it: the sofa and loveseat of my newlywed dreams. And let me tell you one thing: they were ugly. As in hideous. No way, no how would I ever allow something that awful in my home!

And isn't that the way it goes? The things we think we want out of this life aren't really what we wanted after all.

That sofa and love seat remind me of the transitory nature of the things of this world. Sure, I no longer linger in Sears, dreaming over a certain, albeit ugly, sofa. But how fickle is my heart, yearning after that which will never last and will only disappoint, and in the end, prove to be nothing at all like I'd hoped.

May I learn to store up treasures in heaven, setting my heart on things unseen, seeking after Jesus, the true Treasure of this life. And the next. For where my treasure is, there my heart will be also.


  1. Beautiful post, Lisa, and just what I needed to hear.

  2. Great illustration for a great truth...thanks for sharing.

  3. This post hit me right where I'm living right now, and you said it so well.

    Don't we pray "THY Kingdom come, THY will be done" so that we don't decorate the kingdom OUR way with Sears sofas (you) and tacky drapes (me)? And I'm not even going to start on things like purses and shoes because surely those are exempt from that "where your treasure is" business. Right?