We used to sing that old hymn, “The Old Rugged Cross,” in church.

(As a matter of fact, Kevin and I sang it a number of years ago at my parents’ church … completely impromptu!)

The chorus goes like this:

“So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross, Till my trophies at last I lay down; I will cling to the old rugged cross, And exchange it some day for a crown.”

When I was taking the scenic route home from school today, checking out houses listed for sale on my Realtor.com app, I drove down a dead-end street. As I was backing around to three-point-turn myself out of there, I noticed the trash pile at the street in front of the last house on the left:

Trophies. Big, shiny trophies. All laid out for the trash truck.

I wondered about the person who decided those trophies had lost their value. Did he work hard for them? Did she love them when she won them? Has he now died and left them to someone else who didn’t see them as valuable as he did?

I thought about the trophies that I’ve won, the awards and books and ribbons. Many of them are stored in a big plastic box that’s nothing more than a huge pain to move when we finally do (and we will). Why do I hang onto those things? Are my memories not enough?

When I read this to Kevin, he said it ties in with the words of his patron saint, Juan de la Cruz, that have been ringing in his ears all day:

“In order to arrive at possessing everything / Desire to possess nothing.”

The trophies, along with the status and prestige we “earn” through the years, hold only the value that we place on them, nothing in themselves.

And when we place value on these things and qualities, we distort the very reason we exist: to praise God every second of every day.