Myles Munroe - Unlock Your Potential: Becoming Your Best You

What you have done is only a mere fraction of who you are.

Slowly the young man worked his way through the brush and the young trees that had grown up through the cracked foundation of the dilapidated house. Cobwebs filled openings where windows had once been and hornets nests clung to the scorched beams of the floor above. A partially burned-out staircase hovered in the corner and a broken oil lamp lay dashed on the first step. Years of dirt and debris littered the floor, with an occasional wildflower providing a discordant note of charm and warmth.

At the base of the staircase, the young man halted. Dared he try to climb the stairs to the main floor above? He doubted the rotted wood would hold him, yet the desire to go higher impelled him cautiously on. For years he had wanted to explore this shell of a house, but his mother had strictly forbade it, reminding him that the forlorn gate to the fence that surrounded the property contained a faded No Trespassing sign and warning him that it was not safe. How long the house had stood this way, he didnt know, for within his memory it had always been so. Today no one could stop him, however, for only a few hours before he had bought the land on which the house stood.

Moving carefully from one step to another, testing each before putting his full weight upon it, the young man gingerly mounted the stairs. Here and there he skipped a step that threatened to give way beneath him. At the top, he paused to survey the charred remains that surrounded him.

He stood at the end of a long room that appeared to have once been a kitchen. Broken pottery and twisted metal littered the floor. A warped candlestick lay on the edge of what must have been the family table. Here and there scraps of material waved in the breeze that blew through the paneless windows. Nearly one whole wall of the room was missing, gaping into a room beyond. Though he wondered what that room might reveal, a step in that direction quickly changed the explorers mind, for his foot went through the floor. Light streaming from the room beyond suggested that little remained of that part of the house.

Turning to his left, the young man discovered a long hallway with an opening on either side. Here the floor creaked beneath his step, but it did not give way. The opening to the left revealed a room dominated by a massive stone fireplace. Parts of the chimney had tumbled onto the rusted, sooty grate, and the filth on the hearth warned that many birds had built their nests within the chimneys shelter. The only furniture in the room was the crumbling remains of a small table.

The opening to the right, farther down the hall, revealed a small sitting room with the hulks of rotting furniture leaning against two walls. Strips of blackened wallpaper hung from the ceiling, but the walls contained no gaping holes as had the other two rooms. Backing quickly from the room when a rat scurried across the floor through the carpet of leaves that had blown through the broken windows, the young man turned to retreat. Suddenly a faint streak of light at the end of the hall caught his attention.

Moving cautiously around the broken boards on the floor, the explorer moved toward the hint of light. As he neared the blackened wall, he realized that a closed door lay at the end of the hallway. The doorknob turned, but the rusted hinges prevented him from opening the door. Though he pushed with all his strength, the door would not yield. Disappointed, the young man retraced his steps through the kitchen, down the rickety stairs, and through the cluttered basement. As he started to climb into his car, the thought came to him: That hint of light must mean an open window or a hole in the wall. Perhaps I could see into the room from the back of the house.

After much effort, the explorer stood at the back of the house, having worked his way under the low branches of old trees and through the overgrown bushes and waist-high weeds that hampered his progress. A single window adorned the back wall. Although direct access to the window was denied by high bushes, a large tree spread its limbs within inches of the cracked, but nearly whole, panes. Inching his way up the tree and out the limb, the explorer gasped with astonishment as he peered through the dirty glass.

This room appeared to have been largely untouched by the fire that had ravaged the rest of the house. Candlesticks stood on the mantle over the small fireplace, the wax from the candles having run down the stone onto the hearth below. Books lay open on the desk to the right and curtains hung at a high window to the left. Although the walls were yellowed with age and spotted with water, they were not black like those of the rooms he had entered. Who would have thought such a room could exist in the otherwise ruined house?

Excitement coursed through the young mans veins. Why, this room might reveal what the rest of the house must have looked like before the fire. It might also provide the clues he needed to determine who had lived here and why the house had been left to rot instead of being rebuilt. Perhaps other treasures awaited him in the parts of the room he could not see, untapped resources that would help him to solve the mystery that had always surrounded the house in his young mind. Wildly his imagination soared as he looked into the unexpected chamber that lay before him.

In time the young man withdrew from his vantage point in the tree. His mind was filled with wonder, for the room held possibilities beyond his greatest hopes. Perhaps it would afford him the opportunity to fulfill his boyhood dream of restoring the house to its former grandeur. Already he was busy calculating how he would force open the door at the end of the dark hallway. Then he would know more certainly the wealth of his find.

Potential. The unexposed, untapped, hidden, dormant revelations that lay beneath the accumulated dust and grime of many years. Potential. Strength and beauty that lay unmarred by the ravages of fire, wind, and water. Potential. The possibilities for rebuilding after years of destruction, decay, and neglect.

Our lives are very much like this decaying house. The strength and beauty God gave to men and women when He created them in His image and likeness too often are not evident in us. Our minds are cluttered with impure thoughts and mixed motives, our bodies are weakened by the effects of bad habits and poor decisions, and our hearts are warped by misplaced trust and the absence of love. In many ways, we are empty people working our way through the problems and detours of life with little hope that things will ever change. This discouragement and dissatisfaction with life is the result of our separation from God, a separation that came when Adam and Eve sinned by choosing to put their own thoughts and desires above Gods commandments and promises. (See Genesis 3.) Every person shares this tendency to establish his wants and will over Gods. Therein lies the source of our discouragement and dissatisfaction.

Our discouragement and dissatisfaction with life are the results of our separation from God.

Gods intent for men and women has not changed, nor has He taken from us the strength and beauty He gave us at birth. These gifts are buried within us, covered over by the attitudes and assumptions that prevent us from living the abundant life God planned for us. In effect, many have placed a No Trespassing sign over their power, strength, abilities, talents, and capabilities. Because we have obeyed that sign, many of the possibilities with which we were born still exist within ushidden and dormant, unused and untried.

TREASURE IN CLAY POTS

The great writer Paul refers to this hidden wealth within as treasure in jars of clay (2 Corinthians 4:7). The jar may not look like much, but the treasure inside it is valuable and priceless. In other words,