I slept in a yurt last night. Not a portable yurt of felt like the Mongolians carried across the steppes, but a very nice tarp and wood structure with windows and an operable skylight. And a deck. And furniture and electricity and plug-ins for my cell phone charger and laptop. Something of the “strike the tents and hit the road” nature of the original yurts has been lost in translation. And though Paul describes the human body as a tent, a temporary shelter to be carried lightly and left behind soon for our “building from God” in heaven, I often live as if the tent, like that yurt, is a permanent setup. God tells me I am a stranger and alien in this world, but I’ve settled in quite comfortably, with a myriad of modern conveniences and tawdry treasures anchoring me firmly in place.

Don’t store up treasures on earth, my Jesus tells me, but store up treasures in Heaven, for where my treasure is, there my heart will be also. I’m good at storing up treasures on Earth…a house and a car, electronic gadgets and books aplenty. Do I really want my heart tied up in this stuff? No, I don’t. But if I don’t make a conscious effort to focus on heavenly things, my heart will indeed be firmly nestled amongst my worldly goods and relationships. I’ll think and act like a permanent resident of the here and now, furnishing my yurt like it was a mansion.

I feel a keen conviction to loosen my grip and lighten the load. Be ready, my Jesus whispers to me, to move at a moment’s notice. When the cloud of glory drifts away from the tabernacle, strike your tent, pack up your donkeys and follow. You’re an alien here. You’re a citizen of a far country, and I might want you to get moving in that direction any second.

Help me, Lord, to live lightly in this world. Help me to see through the sparkle and flash of earthly enticements to the dross beneath. I don’t want to waste the time and resources you give me on amusements and bling for my body and driveway and closet, bulging out the walls of my tent and weighing me down. Put in my heart ideas for storing up treasures in heaven. Teach me how to love You completely, to love my neighbor, to share your love with them, to give generously to anyone who needs help, and comfort the suffering. When you call me to my own custom-built home in that heavenly city, I want to pack my memories of a blessed and useful life into a backpack, strike my tent and head for Heaven without a backward glance!