Author Archives: dinahoverlien

Rewriting the Psalms

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I love the book of Psalms. It’s the first place I turn when I am sad, burdened and in need of comfort. Sometimes I go to familiar verses, the ones I can count on time after time to express exactly how I am feeling. Sometimes I am surprised by a new thought that never occurred to me in a new verse I’d never noticed before.

In an effort to really understand the depth of these beautiful writings, I decided to rewrite the Psalms. The Book of Psalms According to Dinah. Phrase by phrase, I had to think about each word and how I would express the same thought. For instance, Psalm 30:1-5 says,

“I will exalt you, O Lord, for you lifted me out of the depths and did not let my enemies gloat over me. O Lord my God, I called to you for help and you healed me. O Lord, you brought me up from the grave; you spared me from going down into the pit. Sing to the Lord, you saints of his; praise his holy name. For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” NIV

Now the DPR version (Dinah’s Personal Rendition): “Because You lifted me up out of the hole I was in and kept others from kicking me when I was down, I will now hold You up for all to see. Here’s how it happened: I cried ‘help’ and You made it all better. Honestly, Lord, it’s like being buried alive and having someone dig you up just in time. This calls for some singing and praising, everybody! God may show a flash of anger from time to time, but what rules the day is His loving acceptance. I can cry a river at night, but as sure as the sunrise, things will look better in the morning.”

I hope David doesn’t mind me putting my own twist on his poems. I’m not attempting to change them, just relate on a deeper level. Just trying to get into the psalm writer’s head and get the ancient words into my heart.

Buck Snort

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While my husband and I were on our first real vacation ever (I’m still dreaming about it), we ventured into town to take a look around.  I was intriuged by a sign adveritsing “Buck Snort Coffeehouse”.  I told my man I just HAD to get a coffee at Buck Snort.  Imagine my disappointment when we found the front door locked and building empty.  Evidently Buck Snort Coffeehouse was no longer in business, so I had to settle for a picture by the front sign.

And a picture by the sign on the side of the building. 

We went next door to the gift shop and asked the owner about the empty building.  And the sign.  She dialed up the owner, Inga, and handed the phone to my hubby.  He was a little startled, but talked to Inga about the sign, expressing interest in buying it.  Inga was perplexed, but said she’d get back to us.  Two days later, we checked back with the gift shop owner and once again, was handed the phone with Inga on the line.    “Okay,”  she said, “would $25 be too much?” 

So we hopped on over to the empty coffeehouse and unscrewed the sign (after borrowing a screw driver from a guy with tools in the back of his pick-up truck.  I love small towns!  He and his buddy and the gift shop lady all came out to watch us take down the sign.)  Then we left $25 in an envelope with Inga’s name on it at the gift shop.  We smiled all the way back to our cabin on the lake.  We smiled every time we got in the car and looked at the sign. 

 I smile every time I walk in my back door and see the “Buck Snort Coffeehouse” sign hanging in my ktichen.

Shoes

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Our church is doing a shoe drive this fall.  People are encouraged to go through their closets and bring in the shoes they no longer wear.  They will be donated to an organization that distributes the shoes to people all over the world who have none.  It’s a fairly easy thing to do; it doesn’t take much time and doesn’t cost any money.  But to be honest, the process made me a little sick, and it wasn’t  from the smell of my son’s pile of cast-off athletic footwear.  Just look at that – nine pairs of shoes.  (There were ten pairs, but my husband nabbed one.  Now we have to go through his closet.)

While someone is walking around shoe-less, I am sitting on ten pairs.  It’s a humbling thought…it’s a sobering truth.  It’s not fair.

In light of all this, I had to chuckle when I read about the Israelites’ shoe situation during their 40 years in the desert.  Moses reminded the people: “During the forty years that I led you through the desert, your clothes did not wear out, nor did the sandals on your feet.”   Forty years.  Same pair of shoes.  Forty years.  Same stinkin’ pair of sandals.  Darn things just wouldn’t wear out.  That would be like me still wearing the same PF Flyers I had when I was 10, every day for four decades. 

So it seems God can even put life into an old pair of sandals.  That thought just makes me smile.  May these nine pair of shoes fit the feet of someone, somewhere.  (They will have to be size 15.)  May I be content with a smaller pile in my closet.  May my Nikes last til I’m 90.

Grape Juice

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There’s nothing prettier than the morning sun shining through jars of freshly canned grape juice.

In fact, I woke up my husband this morning and made him come out to the kitchen to view the breath-taking sight. He appreciates things like this. It’s one of the things I love most about him.

In the bleak midwinter, this grape juice will taste heavenly. Right now, it’s probably a little weak, but given time, this is grape juice at its finest. It needs to set awhile, soak awhile, sleep awhile. One raw, bitterly cold and snowy January evening, my hubby will pop some popcorn, I’ll get out the cribbage board, and we’ll pop open one of these jars. We’ll strain out the grapes and have a taste of late summer goodness.

Those wrinkly old grapes will have turned water into wine (well, juice, really). Miraculous!

As I get older and wrinklier (is that a word?) I hope I seep out enough flavor to leave a little beauty and sweetness in the world. As God steeps us in the ordinary, may we create something extra-ordinary. Perhaps even miraculous.

Coming Home

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Vacation.  I highly recommend it.  I’ve never been on a real vacation before.  Oh, sure, we did some trips with the kids when they were young.  But traveling with little ones is not truly relaxing.  Memorable, but not relaxing.  And we’ve taken some time off to attend weddings, family gatherings and conferences.  Spending time with large groups of people is fun, but not necessarily relaxing.  I’ve always been anxious to return home and get back to a regular routine, and try to rest up from vacation.

We actually did it up right last week.  And for the first time, I wasn’t itching to get back home.  I experienced relaxation, refreshment and a restoring of my soul.  Here’s how to do it:

1.  Wait until the kids are old enough to fend for themselves, and responsible enough to take care of the dog.  ( It took us 31 years….)

2.  Pack a few clothes, a lot of books and fishing poles. 

3.  Drive north for about 4 hours.

4.  Find a cabin on a lake and move in.  Walk out onto the dock and drink in the sights, sounds, and smells.  Be amazed. 

5.  Take a deep breath and let all the knots, worries, concerns, problems and frets go.  Just let it all go.

6.  Repeat several times a day, every day, for as long as you possibly can.

Now, that’s a vacation.  You’ve got to try it.

Running Away

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I’m running away today.  With my husband.  Without my cell phone or computer.  No TV, no internet, no texting.  Only a bagful of books and journals, a boat, and a cribbage board.  I am beside myself with giddiness!

TTFN  (Ta-Ta For Now)

Lists

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This is my to-do list for yesterday. I love the look of a to-do list that is all ta-done. There’s a sense of victory in knocking off each item, like a mighty conqueror.

My mind is constantly making lists. The process starts early in the morning and carries me through the day. I like having a plan that keeps me on track. Yesterday, it worked. That doesn’t happen very often, hence the picture of my glorious slip of scribbled paper. Most days are a mix of surprises and interruptions with some mayhem thrown in. Perhaps this penchant for making lists is my way of willing some order into the universe and control over my day.

I’m not the only one who likes lists. The scriptures are full of them. Some are monotonous lists of who begat whom or what tract of land each tribe was given. Some lists are familiar, like the 10 Commandments or the Beatitudes. See?  God likes lists too. One of the best is a pretty short one, and tucked into one of those obscure books that forces one to use the Table of Contents. Micah, speaking for God, said, “What does the Lord require of you? 1) To act justly 2) to love mercy and 3) to walk humbly with your God.” Micah 6:8  

Don’t think I’ll ever be able to cross off that list. It’s hard to act justly when so often life isn’t fair. (“The fair comes to town once a year and for the rest of the year, it’s just not fair.” – famous quote of my aunt.) I love mercy, because I need so much of it. I don’t always love mercy enough to extend it to others, though. I do my best to walk with God, but the “humbly” part, that needs some work.

Maybe I should give more attention to Micah’s to-do list. What would happen if every morning, we all wrote down those three things and carried that list around all day? I’m thinking we’d change the world.

Step It Up

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“Take the time and trouble to keep yourself spiritually fit.” 1 Timothy 4:7 (Phillips version)  

Last year our insurance company sent out pedometers to everyone covered by their health insurance plan. We were told to wear them every day and then regularly plug them into our computer where the steps would be logged. At the end of the year, depending on how many steps taken, each person would be rewarded. I figured a little motivation couldn’t hurt and it wasn’t a big deal to clip the pedometer on my belt loop every morning. When I realized the reward could potentially be as much as $300, I got serious. Getting paid to walk? Are you kidding? I’m in!

Unfortunately, not everyone in the household was on board. One day I noticed an unused pedometer sitting on  the counter and *cha-ching*, I saw money walking out the door. So I clipped it on next to mine. Not sure that’s ok. I feel slightly guilty, so it’s probably not ok.

Perhaps I’ve lost sight of the real motivation for all this. The money is nice, but exercise and good health is really what this deal is all about. Wearing my hubby’s pedometer might garner me a few bucks, but it will do nothing for his health. When it comes down to it, everyone needs to be responsible for their own steps if they want the true reward.

This Is Why

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This is why I love baseball.

        I love baseball because I love these two baseball players.       

  One son starts the game ….

and the other son closes the game.

Some days are glorious, some are painful.

Losing hurts worse than winning feels good.

But even in the painful times, they have each other. 

I don’t really love baseball.  I like baseball.

I really love them.

How Do I Love Thee?

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You’ve probably seen that commercial where a man and woman are at a park sitting on a blanket and the man says, “I love this new Miller Lite aluminum pint.”  “Oh really,” she says. “Why do you love it?”  And he begins to expound on all the reasons why he loves his beer can. He’s articulate and passionate. He doesn’t have to stop and think; the many reasons for his ardor roll off his tongue effortlessly. The annoyed girlfriend then asks the inevitable question, “And why do you love me?” Suddenly tongue-tied, he tries too hard to sound natural, but stutters and stammers some idiotic blather about her hair and teeth. She’s not impressed. In fact, she’s ticked.

In another episode, a young man is obviously falling hard for a beautiful young woman. His voice-over leads us to believe he’s found “the one” for him.  Except “the one” turns out to be a keg of beer in his fridge.

Sometimes I feel like those shallow guys on the beer commercials. I can wax eloquent about a book or movie I just love. I can go on and on about the joys of quilting or the thrill of finding a deal at a flea market. I can even be a fairly convincing sports fan. (I do love enjoy baseball.) But when the still, small voice whispers in my spirit, “And why do you love Me?” I am suddenly speechless. Like the guy in the commercial, I struggle to express anything with depth of meaning. “Gahhh…uhhhhh…’cause You, like, made everything and ….You’re….. you know, really great and … well…….  Thou Art Worthy…”  When I start talking like that, I know I’m trying too hard and not being real. Good gracious.

Instead of trying to come up with some high and lofty sounding words of righteous praise, I need a new approach. Maybe I should just give God a compliment. Something like, “My, You really outdid Yourself this morning with that sunrise.” Or, “Nice job on that flower. Great color and design.” Or, “I really love it when You do that.”

How do I love Thee? Let me make a list.

Funny what beer commercials can teach you.