For your heart will always pursue what you esteem as your treasure.—Matthew 6:21 (TPT)

“Happy birthday, eight months early!” my ever-generous sister said, handing me a small box.

As our tour bus pulled away from the souvenir shop, and we continued our journey to Masada, Israel’s ancient hilltop fortress, I excitedly opened my unexpected gift. Inside was a bronze coin, set in silver. My sister explained it was found in Masada and minted almost 2,000 years ago. Less than five years after the Jewish coin was made, the Romans conquered Jerusalem, and Jewish rebels fled to the safety of Masada. After a months-long siege, when the Roman army finally breached the city’s walls, they found only two women and five children alive, hiding in a cistern. Rather than be captured by the Romans, 960 Jews had taken their own lives.

My sister knew me well. Long before I’d wanted to be a writer, I wanted to be an archaeologist. Instead of writing stories, I’d longed to uncover other people’s stories by studying what they’d left behind. This little piece of history I held in my hands set my mind racing. Who had held this in their hands? What were their last days in Masada like?

Then my mind made a U-turn. I began wondering what the relics of my own life had to tell future generations about me. Would my “treasures” hold clues as to my faith, generosity, courage . . . or materialism? That one tiny coin, a “rebel’s mite,” became a touchstone for me, a reminder to be ever mindful of where my true treasure lies.