Maybe my stuff is not what one would call “riches” in the ordinary sense of the term. A lot of it is broken, useless, or outdated junk. Then there are books, in great stacks on shelves, on desks, on tables, on the ground (such as the piles represented in this artistic-ish illustration). And then there are… more books.
Too much stuff. How shall I ever enter the Kingdom of God?
But really, none of these things compares to the riches that hinder me most: the riches I carry about in my mind. Here there are a few real jewels, in addition to much that is of lesser value, and lots of internal clutter. The jewels are entrusted to me for the benefit of others. I don’t know why I’m so slow to share them.
I am anxious and concerned about many things. But only “one thing” is of need to me.
