I woke up with a story for you.
An offer is made to you that sounds too good to be true. But, through whatever appropriate channels, you check it out and discover it’s a legitimate offer.
The wealthy businessman that’s made the proposal is giving you, yes, for free, what amounts to a small city. You can invite your family and friends to live with you there, if you’d like. We know almost everything about you can now be discovered through the internet, so it’s reasonable to see that he’s designing it to your likings. Everything you’ll ever need or want is within your reach, including a treasure at the center of the city, valued at more than you can fathom. And it’s even located right where you’d have built it yourself if you’d had whereabouts to do so.
The decision to accept it or not has faded from existence. It’s yours!
However there’s a little man (in my mind he looks rather like the man that begs for hamburgers in the old Popeye cartoons, Wimpy) that walks the perimeter of your city pushing a small vending cart. You approach him and ask what he’s doing there. He offers to sell you protection for your city. He tells you a giant haboob (an unreasonably large sandstorm) will come and bury your city, but he’ll protect it for you in exchange for your treasure. You still have everything else the generous businessman is giving you, he simply wants the treasure. The choice in this story isn’t whether you take the city from the businessman; it’s whether you give your treasure to the Wimpy-man. What do you choose?
God is already at work building you a mansion – your city. It’s yours. The treasure at town center is whatever it is you hold dearest. The Wimpy-man is Jesus.