These were corn syrup filled action figures that stretched when you pulled on their limbs. We absolutely loved these toys, but like most toys they ended up victims of boyhood abuse. After getting stretched way farther than they were intended to stretch and enduring various BB gun wars and the like, they ended up in the garbage. Our mom wouldn’t let us keep them once the corn syrup started leaking onto the carpet. We were brokenhearted.
Though I once cared deeply for my stretch monster, presently, I don’t miss him or care about him in the least. What I once cared about and grieved over losing I now don’t care a bit about and can chuckle over.
This makes me wonder if much of the broken-heartedness that we endure in our lives presently is the equivalent of broken toys from our past. Is it possible that those things that grieve us now won’t really matter in the future?
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.
2 Corinthians 4:17-18
For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.