By Pastor Bill Cox

My grandparents and their seven children lived on Prospect Farm, the farm in rural Canada which has been in the family since the early nineteenth century.

In 1929, as the Great Depression began, my grandfather fell from a hay mower and severed his spinal cord. My grandmother was forced to turn the farm over to family members, move to a smaller place and raise her seven children on a widow’s pension and the eggs and butter from two cows and a few chickens.

The children would carry eggs and butter a few miles and trade them for groceries to subsist on, and together they would walk to the Chesterfield church in rural Ontario, West of Toronto.

Recently, I received a letter from my elderly aunt in which she included an article from the Ayr News, the region’s weekly newspaper. They had interviewed my aunt and her surviving sister in a nostalgic story about long ago Christmas celebrations, and what I found most inspiring was my aunt’s recollection of her childhood in rural Ontario.

She spoke of Christmases where there wasn’t a lot of material substance – maybe a chicken for dinner and a few small gifts – but the house was rich with love and joy despite hard times.

“A house doesn’t have to be beautiful to be a happy home,” said my aunt, “and our mother, alone now, made it just that.” To this day, the family is strong and has weathered the many tragedies and sorrows that life sometimes brings our way with strong mutual love and support.

I was blessed this past summer to be able to visit my two surviving elderly aunts. They are both still very sharp and living their lives fully. The one who was interviewed knits dolls, which she sells and donates the proceeds to missionary school projects in Kenya.

When I was first converted in 1978, another aunt wrote to tell me how my grandmother would walk around the house singing “At the Cross,” and would be found at day’s end on her knees praying for her children.

I attribute God’s dealings in my life, to some degree, to my grandmother’s prayers in those desperate times. My cousin Russell also was converted, and his children have been missionaries to Turkey.

Even as we view dark clouds on the horizon and live in very uncertain times economically, we must remember that there are things that matter so much more than mere material things.

Jesus spoke of the “true riches” in life. While obviously He was referring to eternity and our heavenly reward, even in this life there are things that are so much more valuable than material wealth, which is so transitory and doesn’t have the power to really fulfill.

The story is told of a rich dad who wanted his son to experience the poverty of others at close quarters. So he took him on a trip, and together they spent time on the farm of a poor family. On the way home, the father asked his son, “Do you see how poor people can be?”

“Yes, Dad,” his son replied. “I see that we have only one dog, but they have four. We have a pool and they have a flowing river. We have lanterns at night, but they have the stars. We buy our food, but they grow theirs. We have walls to protect us, but they have friends. We have encyclopedias, but they have only the Bible.

"Thanks, Dad, for showing me how poor we are."

It’s not money that makes us rich and life enjoyable, but the quality of simplicity we pursue, the real friends we have, and having God in our lives.

And isn’t that true? How much wealthier we are with family, church community, our relationship with the Lord and the friends we’ve made along the way than with the often fleeting wealth and success of this world?

Proverbs 24:3-6 sums it up beautifully: “Through skillful and godly wisdom is a house ( a life, a home, a family) built, and by understanding it is established ( on a sound and good foundation) and by knowledge shall its chambers (of every area) be filled with all precious and pleasant riches” (Amplified Bible).

The writer speaks here of the true riches: love, peace, joy, companionship, and the living lives of meaning and purpose.

So what should we do to change our perspective?

Among the many trite sayings I heard when I was a hippie was this one: “Be sure to take time to stop and smell the roses.” There’s a lot of truth in the advice that little saying offers.

As we race from appointment to distraction and fret and worry over things we can’t change, life is passing us by. Our children are growing, and opportunities for joyful interaction with them are passing away with time.

As I look back on the last 35 years of faith, ministry and family, I hardly ever reflect on the countless hours of toil I have spent in various door shops and carpentry sites. But I do recall fondly the Little League games and road trips with the family, swimming in a creek full of water moccasins in Alabama, and hours of card games and laughter.

These are the things that matter.