What if Bill Gates gave me all his money?

Would I write him a thank-you card?

Would I invite him over to my house?

Would I give him a gift?

Would I call him my friend?

Would I want him to be part of my life?

Under what conditions?  Would I write him thank-you cards for the first year, and then taper off after that . . or would I just write one big thank-you on one of those $10 Hallmark cards and call us even?

Would I allow him over to my house anytime, or just when it was most convenient for me . . or would I make sure he knew he was only welcome on the holidays?

Would I go out of my way to find a gift that really meant something to him . . or would I buy him something quick and easy–a new mouse for his keyboard, maybe–and hope he felt grateful . . or would I splurge really big and buy him a computer?

And would I want him to be my friend . . or just an acquaintance?  Would I set the terms of our friendship for what I need and want . . . or would I be open to his input, too?  Would I allow him to make suggestions for my life . . . or would that just offend me big-time?  Would I threaten to stop speaking to him if he shared advice . . . and would I throw him out of my house if he dared to say he had a problem with something in my lifestyle?

Would I want him to be a part of my life if he fit in . . or would I want him to just go away and forget he’d given me a gift at all?  Would I want him to care about me . . . without me having to care about him?  Would he become my best friend . . or just part of my network?  Would I want to know more about him . . or just click the “like” button for his facebook page?  Would I want to become part of his family . . . or would I hope we could just be strangers again?

How long would I remember his gift?

How long would I love him for it?

When would I feel I’d expressed more than enough gratitude?

When would I tire of thanking him?

And could there be a time when . . I’d actually forget the gift he’d given?

Could there come a time when I would turn him down for lunch, stop answering his calls, turn the lights off if he rang the doorbell to my new mansion?  Or maybe even threaten to call security?

Could there actually be a time when I would hate him?

Could there actually be a time when I would make fun of his gift?

I don’t think Bill Gates is ever going to give me all his money, seeing as how he doesn’t even know who I am, and “maybe” has other priorities with his spending.

But the crazy thing is, God gave me a bigger gift than a trillion dollars, and I keep forgetting about it.

If Bill Gates gave me all his money, and I bought my own country, I could maybe have (let’s look real optimistically here) another 80 years of spending-spree party time.  But then, I’d die.  And without Jesus, I’d go to Hell.

I mean this with all my hearts–I’d rather have eternity with God than every penny Bill Gates owns.  There’s a big difference between 80 years (and wow, I’d be 108 at the end of that) and 8,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,

000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000

years.  And, hey, in eternity, that’s just the beginning.

If I wouldn’t dream of treating Bill Gates with such casual coldness if he gave me such a gift as all his money . . . why on earth would I think of treating the gift of God’s Son, Jesus Christ, with halfhearted apathy for even one second of the rest of my existence?

the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 6:23b, ESV)

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