My Bleeding Heart

Posted on by

Feast your eyes on these beauties.

Bleeding hearts are my favorite spring flower.

“They bloom like a love letter in spring, then quietly rest.
And every year, they come back with the same soft drama.”*

“Bleeding Heart” sounds ominous, though, doesn’t it?
Less like a love letter, more like a serious condition.
Less like soft drama, more like E.R. trauma.

Despite the dire-sounding name, there are some delightful lessons here.

  • Do you see those delicate blooms hanging onto the small branch? Cling to the Source of Life if you want to produce beauty.
  • Do you notice how the blossoms come in clusters? Don’t go rouge and isolate. Gather with your people regularly.
  • Do you know that these are the first to flower in the spring? Go ahead and flourish, even if the conditions are cold and harsh and you are the only one.
  • Do you observe how the dark green leaves set off the pop of pink? Be the background support that lets others stand out.
  • Do you realize this is a plant that comes back year after year? Keep showing up, day after day, month after month, year after year.

Consider the lilies, how they grow:
they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you,
even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed
like one of these.
Luke 12:27


*Heidi from gracerosefarm.com

Going, Going, Gone

Posted on by

Happy Ascension Day!

I never paid much attention to Ascension Day, and for many believers, this day will go by unnoticed. In some countries, it’s a public holiday with government offices, schools and businesses closed. In their experience, when a king or queen ascends to the throne, it’s cause for great celebration.

“After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. ‘Men of Galilee,’ they said, ‘why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.’” Acts 1:9-11

What a dramatic exit! Jesus was going away for good this time. He had been coming and going for 40 days, but this was it. His feet left the ground and He levitated higher and higher. The disciples witnessed the whole thing, until a cloud got in their line of sight.

They stood there, staring into the sky. Whoever saw anything like it? A man floating up into the clouds! Who could have looked away at such a sight? Eleven men strained to see, with necks stretched back, heads cocked to the side. Oh, surely Jesus was smiling. Just think of His own excitement in returning to heaven, to His Father, to a victory party and coronation. Perhaps He had a tinge of sadness leaving His Men of Galilee, but He had confidence in the Holy Spirit to carry on the mission in them.

Then a voice said, “Why are you standing here looking skyward?” Surely more smiles, right? The angelic messengers had bombshell information: the very same Jesus would return in the same way He left.

He left physically.
He will come back in the same way.
He left visibly.
He will come back in the same way.
He left from the Mount of Olives.
He will come back in the same way.
He left in the presence of the disciples.
He will come back in the same way.
He left blessing His church.
He will come back in the same way.*

What will you do today to celebrate your crowned King
who sits on His throne with authority and power?
Look intently up into the sky for a few minutes?
Kneel before the glorious and majestic King Jesus?
Or, like the disciples, go out worshiping Him with great joy?

“God exalted Jesus to the highest place
and gave Him the name that is above every name.”
Phil. 2:9

*David Guzik commentary

A Woman of Letters

Posted on by

I have no letters after my name.
No MSW, no PhD, no MDiv.
Just plain old me.
But, let me tell you, I’ve got letters.
Boxfuls of letters.

There is a box in my closet labeled “Montana Letters.” It is full of crinkly old papers covered with spidery long-hand penmanship. Somehow, these letters traveled from Montana to Wisconsin between 1899-1906, probably by train and wagon. They were written by my great-great-grandma Harriet to her daughter, my great-grandma, Kate. Faded two cents stamps on the envelopes are postmarked with a place and date. The letters were passed down from generation to generation and survived in musty basements for 120 years. I treasure them now, but at the time, they weren’t anything special. Just updates on the family, reports on how the crops were doing, and longings to see each other again.

But that’s not all.

I compiled all the letters my dad wrote to his parents during his Navy days aboard the USS Fanshaw Bay during WW2 and bound them into a book titled “Letters Home: 1944-1946.”

In another box, there are more envelopes secured by a rubber band. These are letters PB and I wrote back and forth as we were falling in love and anticipating marriage. They still smell like Emeraude perfume.

I have postcards my kids wrote home during their week at Camp Lucerne. “Mom, I forgot to pack socks so I’ve been wearing the same pair all week.”

There are several plastic storage totes full of cards and notes I have received over the years from family and friends—the ones with a heart-felt message written by hand. They mean something, still.

God is the original writer, using His finger to inscribe words into a rock.
“He gave Moses the two flat stones on which he had written all his laws
with his own hand.”
Exodus 31:18

Twenty-one books of the Bible started as letters.
I’m grateful Paul didn’t have the option of texting or emailing his messages to the churches.

“Your very lives are a letter that anyone can read by just looking at you.
Christ himself wrote it—
not with ink, but with God’s living Spirit;
not chiseled into stone, but carved into human lives.”
2 Corinthians 3:3

Are you inspired to write a real live letter?
Send me a message and I’ll give you my mailing address!
dinah.overlien@gmail.com

If We Knew Then

Posted on by

Look at us.

So young and full of hope.

When the camera shutter opened and captured this moment,
there were so many things we didn’t know.

We didn’t know that—

  • four children would fill our hearts and our home.
  • our four children would marry four other children and produce 12 more children.
  • we would spend agonizing weeks in pediatric ICU.
  • hours would be spent at baseball/basketball/softball/volleyball games, to our delight.
  • musicals, plays and concerts would be our chief entertainment and joy.
  • there would be many trips to the ER for stitches and broken bones.
  • gallons of Kool-Aid and millions of chocolate chip cookies would be consumed.
  • one heart would need three bypasses.
  • six different houses would become home.
  • hundreds of sermons would be preached and thousands of songs would be sung.

If we knew then what we know now—
we’d do it all again.

Out of the Box

Posted on by

One of the most dramatic events in the history of the world happened when God came out of the box.

Long before Indiana Jones, God gave instructions for the Ark of the Covenant, a wooden chest plated with gold. It measured 3 feet 9 inches long by 2 feet 3 inches wide and 2 feet 3 inches high. The cover was made of pure gold and was called “The Mercy Seat.”

It represented God’s presence and the Israelites carried that box wherever they went.

About 500 years later, King Solomon built a temple in Jerusalem, providing a new dwelling place for God’s presence. It was called “The Holy of Holies” and measured about 30 feet high by 30 feet wide by 30 feet deep—a perfect cube-shaped box. And a lot roomier.

In front of the entrance to “The Holy of Holies” a curtain hung, measuring 60 feet high, 30 feet wide and 4 inches thick. The massive tapestry was a visual reminder to the people that God was holy and separate. Nobody could approach that square space except one priest on one day of the year. There were not many volunteers.

When the Son roared from the cross “It is finished,”
the Father whispered from the throne, “It is beginning,”
and He ripped that curtain from top to bottom.
God came out of the box.

A few weeks ago I wrote about Jesus being “on the loose.”

Like Father, like Son.

“I tell you the truth:
the Son can do nothing on his own;
he does only what he sees his Father doing.
What the Father does, the Son also does.”
John 5:19

Unfolding

Posted on by

I just finished reading Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. I enjoyed it very much, but through the whole book, I felt like I wasn’t getting the whole picture. The story unfolded gradually and kept me guessing until the end, when it all came together and made sense.

The two disciples walking on the road to Emmaus didn’t see the big picture quite yet. They had heard reports that very morning that Jesus’ body was missing. They didn’t know the stranger walking with them on the road was that body—alive and well. They had heard rumors about angels and empty tombs. It seemed like amazing things were happening.

So why were these two walking away from all the action?
Did they disregard as gossip the reports that Jesus was alive?
Why didn’t they stay and at least check it out?

All their information was second-hand. Somebody else saw the empty tomb. Somebody else witnessed the heavenly hosts. Other peoples’ amazing stories are easy to walk away from.

What these two didn’t know was that their own amazing story was unfolding as they walked on that road.

Sometimes we can’t see what God is doing,
but everyone who walks with Jesus
has a story that is unfolding.

When I am troubled, disappointed, or even feel like walking away,
I need to remember this:
I’m in the middle of my story
and someday it will all come together and make sense.

What is unfolding today for you?
Don’t stop, keep walking.

On the Loose

Posted on by

Did you know that the 40 day period between Jesus’ resurrection and His ascension is called “Eastertide”? In other words, Easter isn’t over—it’s just getting started!

Many people spend the 40 days leading up to Easter (Lent) preparing for Resurrection Sunday. All that preparation for a one-hour party? Nope. We’re supposed to spend the 40 days after Easter celebrating the risen Savior!

“He appeared to them over a period of forty days.” Acts 1:3

The resurrected Jesus kept showing up—unexpectedly, miraculously, joyfully.
That means from now until May 14th (Ascension Day) the Easter party keeps rolling.

Here’s why Jesus rising from the dead is worthy of a 40-day celebration:

An un-resurrected Jesus reduces Him to a historical figure, a wise teacher, a one-hit-wonder.
An un-resurrected Jesus can be dismissed as another dead philosopher.
An un-resurrected Jesus means we don’t have to believe His claims or obey His commands.

A resurrected Jesus changes EVERYTHING.

“In many respects, I find an un-resurrected Jesus easier to accept.
Easter makes Him dangerous.
Easter means He must be loose out there somewhere.”*

Jesus is on the loose!
He keeps showing up!
Come, join the dangerous celebration!

*The Jesus I Never Knew, Philip Yancey

The Glorious Middle

Posted on by

“They were on their way up to Jerusalem,
with Jesus leading the way,
and the disciples were astonished,
while those who followed were afraid.” 
Mark 10:32

 This is the picture that grips me during Holy Week:

Jesus, striding up to Jerusalem, determined to carry out his mission—
which would involve betrayal, mocking, flogging, crucifixion and death.

He led the way.

Four times, Jesus told His disciples what was coming.
He always included the final part—resurrection—
but they didn’t seem to hear it.

“The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men.  
They will kill him,
and on the third day he will be raised to life.”  
And the disciples were filled with grief. 
Matthew 17:23

Jesus lost them at “they will kill him.”

The Twelve were full of fear,
perhaps wondering if death was also waiting for them in Jerusalem.

BUT THEY STILL FOLLOWED.

They did it scared.

I must remember,
when I am astonished at being led down the road marked with suffering,
that it’s a place He’s been before—
and He knows the way.

I can still follow.
I can do it scared.

The disciples thought the cross was the end of the story.
But it was the middle of the story.

Those things you’ve prayed about for weeks, months, and years?
Your story isn’t over.
You’re in the gory, glorious middle.
Because the cross is never the end.
The cross is always followed by the resurrection.
Always.

Sunday’s coming.

The Boys Are Back

Posted on by

As a kid I wasn’t much of an athlete, although I tried.

In fifth grade I joined the girl’s summer softball team. The coach put me in when we were getting creamed and there were two outs in the bottom of the ninth and it was getting late and he needed a sure out. Thus ended my softball career.

In junior high, I went out for basketball. I made a basket once. For the other team. I cried my eyes out in the locker room, even though we lost by twenty points. So I hung up my sneakers for good.

In high school, I ran in the 440 relay. My real reason for going out for track was because my voice teacher told me running would be good for my singing. It was. I lost every race but got the lead in the musical.

When I had kids of my own who showed an interest in sports,
I finally found my true calling.
I am a great fan.

That’s why today is such a banner day.
I get to use my gift for the next 187 days of the MLB season.
So, rap that apple, boys.
Throw the yakker, Miz.
Let’s see some oppo tacos, Yeli.

Today I will send my sons a meme from The Sandlot.


Today I will tune in to watch the first pitch.


Today I will wear my Brewer T-shirt.

Today I will eat a hotdog.

Because that’s my calling.

Kidneys and Bowels

Posted on by

I know.
Weird title.
I’m going somewhere with this.

Although it’s hard to pick one favorite Psalm, I’d have to say Psalm 16 ranks right up at the top for me. It’s one of the few Psalms I’ve put to memory and I love to run through it in my head right before I go sleep.

There’s one line that always makes me smile. Verse seven says, “I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me.” I like the idea of God downloading His wisdom while I’m sleeping—teaching me even as I’m in a semi-conscious state. But there’s more.

The word “heart” in the phrase “even at night my heart instructs me,” is a very interesting word in the original Hebrew. It actually translates, “Even at night my kidneys instruct me.” Kidneys!

In ancient times, it was believed that the seat of human emotion resided in the lowest organs of the body—like saying, “from the bottom of my heart.” When animals were sacrificed in the temple, the most precious, choice part of the offering were the internal organs. Especially the fat around the kidneys.

Fast forward one thousand years and the Greeks took it even farther.
Or maybe I should say, even lower.

When Paul wrote a letter to his friend, Philemon, he said, “Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the saints.”

In Greek, “hearts” mean “bowels.”

So, this week, I dare you to tell your loved ones:

“I love you with all the fat around my kidneys,”
or
“I love you from the bottom of my bowels.”