The man Job in the Bible finished with more wealth than I realised. The story of the poor bloke is a hard read. He gets hammered in the opening chapters and is left with not even the shirt on his back. But the strugglingly saint grimly holds on by faith, refusing to surrender to darker thoughts, and believes that his personal story will somehow be resolved by heaven’s judiciary. And somehow it does. The man’s health and wealth are returned to him, and in good measure. 

Job is compensated for his early loss by receiving double of all that he possessed at the start of the story. Double the sheep. Double the camels. Double the oxen. Double the donkeys. And yes, even double the children, with a further seven sons and three daughters being born to him. Why not fourteen sons and six daughters? Because the first sons and daughters lost their lives, but not their existence nor their eternity. He will see them again. 

But then comes the surprise. The real remuneration and riches. And they are not the things that can be tallied and banked. But wealth of a more significant kind, and treasure that money can’t buy. Job had learned to be still before his Maker and quiet in heart before God. Not lobotomized nor stupefied into stillness, but consciously, cognitively, and willingly able to trust God, and to leave his life, for better for worse, in divine hands. And that, it seems to me, is treasure indeed.