Buried Treasure

One night last week, PB and I drove out to Devil’s Lake State Park.  After a busy day, we like to go to the lake to soak up the natural beauty and unwind.  Sometimes we walk around the lake or climb the bluffs, but occasionally we do my personal favorite: sit on a picnic table and look at the water.

That evening, a young family happened to stroll by and PB struck up a friendly conversation.  We talked about their dog, a retired racing greyhound.  While we chatted, their little girl ran up and down the path and their young son dug in the dirt with a stick.  Before they moved on, the mom asked her boy if he was writing his name in the dirt.  He replied that he was marking the spot with an X because there was treasure buried there.  She smiled at her little guy and then explained to us that he had been leaving X’s all over the park.

The family began to walk toward the parking lot when PB leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Watch this.”  Then my hubby took two quarters out of his pocket, placed them on the X and kicked a little dirt over them.   “Excuse me!” he called out. “There’s something here!”  The boy stopped in his tracks, raced over to the spot and bent down to see if it was true.  A look of wonder came over his face as he picked up the coins.  He began to jump up and down, shouting, “Treasure!  I got treasure!”

I looked over at PB and thought, “I got some treasure, too.”

“He who refreshes others will himself be refreshed.”  Proverbs 11:25

Mt. Sinai Mystery

I can’t stand it any more.  I just have to ask.

Back in January of 2011, I published a blog post called, “Up and Down Mt. Sinai” (See January 27, 2011).  Since then, thousands of people have read that little essay.  That’s saying a lot, since I have many posts that have been read only once or twice.  Week after week for almost two years, “Up and Down” has been my Top Post by a landslide.  For the life of me, I can’t figure out why.  It’s a mystery.

Do lots of people type “Mt. Sinai” into a search engine and stumble onto my blog?  Or is someone checking into my blog one hundred times a day just to get my heart racing?   Or is there a religious school somewhere that has marked my post as required reading?  I’m at a loss.  I’d like your help.  Tell me why you are here.  I’m dying to know.  Thanks!

Leave a comment or email me at dinah.overlien@gmail.com

Pondering Treasures

“But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”  Luke 2:19

Oh, Mary, I completely understand.  These past few weeks, I have been doing a lot of treasuring and pondering.  No writing, but lots of treasuring and pondering.  I’m finding it hard to put words to it all.  Perhaps that’s best — Mary held her remembrances “dear, deep within her heart” both at her son’s birth (Luke 2:19) and twelve years later when she and Joseph found Jesus in the temple (Luke 2:51).  I suspect she did a lot of treasuring in between, too.  Years later, when Luke was gathering information for his gospel, Mary must have provided him with details of that wondrous night in Bethlehem when she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes.  Who else would have been able to describe that event so vividly?  As Luke took notes, Mary was able to go deep in her heart to retrieve those precious memories.

Unlike mothers in Biblical times, I have photographs and home videos to pull out when I want to take a walk down memory lane.  I have Skype and Instagram and Facebook and a smart phone.  But there’s something about those “snapshots” that are embedded in the heart — such riches.

Here are a few recent images I’ve filed away, dear and deep:

My son pledging his life to his beautiful bride and braiding three cords together while wiping sweat from his brow and tears from his eyes.

My older daughter’s rich mellow voice drifting over the ocean breeze, singing a love song with the sweetness of a mother’s lullaby.

My younger daughter reading about the significance of the three strands, her slightly rounded belly holding promise of a soon-to-be family of three.

My younger son standing to toast the groom, stumbling over his words a bit, but sure and strong in his admiration of his big brother.

And of course, Hudson –watching him figure out how to crawl, then chasing him everywhere.  Also, his delight in the sound of potato chips crunching in my mouth.  I would have eaten a whole bag full of chips just to hear his belly laugh after each munch.  Wait, I did eat a whole bag of chips.  And it was so worth it.

And my last snapshot: at the end of the festivities and receptions and houseful of family, PB and I reveling in the quiet, looking at each other and saying. “We did it.”   So glad it comes back around to just him and me once more.

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.  Matthew 6:19-21

Jackpot

Thursday night the Packers played the Bears at 7:20 p.m. CT.  At 6:15 p.m., realization hit that the game was only on the NFL Network — which we don’t get.  After a few moments of wide-eyed angst, PB did what he does so well.  He took charge, called the 800 number for our cable company, and sweet talked the lady into giving us the NFL Network.  For free.  Gosh, I love that man. 

Evidently, a few weeks ago, we received a notice in the mail from the cable company announcing that several channels were being added to our lineup.  And that wasn’t all!  For such loyal customers as PB and I, the monthly charge was actually being dropped by several dollars.  All we needed to do was to call in or go to the web site and verify our address. 

Evidently, I threw the notice away.  But I’m secretly kind of glad, because PB got to come off looking like a hero.  In a matter of minutes, we were watching the pre-game show and reveling in the fact that his great charm got us 100 new channels for $10 less per month.  We hit the jackpot.  And I was going to settle for listening to the game on the radio.  Geesh.

I probably settle for less more than I realize.  God offers a pretty sweet deal, but I only take Him up on small parts of it.

Eternal life?  Great!  And blessings here on earth besides?  What? 

Peace of mind?  Wonderful!  But joy and purpose and security too?  Really? 

Forgiveness and grace?  I’ll take it!  Plus Holy Spirit power?  Come on.

God is the jackpot.  I don’t have to charm anything out of Him — He offers so much more than I even know.   I just need to tune in.

Backordered

One of my responsibilities as Christian Education Director at my church is to order material for the classes and study groups starting in September.  A new class is being offered this fall called “Foundations” — it will be a place for new believers or people without a church background to learn about the basic beliefs of the Christian faith.  Each topic has its own study guide: God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, the Church, Salvation, and the Bible.  I’m excited to give people a solid place to begin their journey of faith.

When the box arrived this week I eagerly opened it to look over the material.  The packing list was resting on top and something caught my eye.  At the bottom of the printout was the following statement:

THE ITEM LISTED BELOW IS PRESENTLY UNAVAILABLE:

BACKORDERED: GOD

No kidding.

Later, as I was talking to a friend about the class, the conversation went something like this:

“What topic should we start with?”

“Well, I was hoping to start with God, but He’s on backorder, so I guess we’ll have to start with Jesus.”

“That’s not a bad place to start.”

“Yeah, that will be fine, unless God gets here before the 9th.”

Huh.  Ever feel that way?  I sure have.  I place my order with God (do this, change that, heal him, help her) and when it doesn’t pan out according to my plan, I’m disappointed.  I keep hoping God will show up in the nick of time, but I am already forming a back-up plan just in case.  Before long, I wonder why He seems far away.

I’ve found that most often, when I feel distant from God, it’s because I’m not showing up.

Maybe I’d better sign up for the class in basics.

I seem to need to relearn those foundational truths regularly.

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.  James 4:8

Fair Time

The county fair is in town this week. 

It is that special time of year when all things are fair.

My aunt had a famous comeback to my cousins when one of them whined, “But it’s not fair!”  She would respond, “The fair comes to town once a year and the rest of the year, it’s just not fair.”  I’ve used that line many-a-time with my own kids.  For fifty one weeks out of the year, my aunt’s saying is golden.  But for that one week, when it IS fair time, the adage is trouble.

For me a sense of fairness usually comes into play when I’ve been slighted or  overlooked.  I look at someone else’s portion and compare it to mine — always a dangerous game — and feel like I’ve gotten the short end of the deal.  However, when I look at my heaping plate and compare it to someone who has less, rarely do I cry out, “It’s not fair!  I have more than they do!”

This comparing among ourselves gets us into trouble.  But when we start looking heavenward and shaking our finger at God, we’ve gone too far.  The Israelites took it to that level and God delivered a message to them through Jeremiah.  “Do I hear you saying, ‘That’s not fair! God’s not fair!’?  Listen, Israel. I’m not fair? You’re the ones who aren’t fair!”  (Jeremiah 18:25, The Message)  Gulp.  That leads to a good question: How fair am I being to God? 

Considering the cost of His own Son’s death so I could have forgiveness, how fair is it to God when I hold on to ill feelings toward others and refuse to let them go?

Considering the creative genius and intricate detail behind the creation of this world, how fair is it to God when I entertain thoughts that it all just happened by chance?

Considering the provision I enjoy (food I eat, the clothes I wear, the house I live in) how fair is it to God when I think I’ve done pretty well for myself?

I guess my aunt was wrong.  Even when the county fair is on, it’s still not fair.

Who can compare with God, our God, so majestically enthroned, surveying his magnificent heavens and earth? He picks up the poor from out of the dirt, rescues the wretched who’ve been thrown out with the trash.  Psalm 113: 5-7 

Oh yeah.  I got the long end of that deal.

Tale of Two Gardens

PB built some nice little raised beds for our gardening pleasure a few years ago. And they are indeed a pleasure. There are hardly any weeds, and when one does pop up, we don’t even have to bend over to pluck it out. That’s my kind of gardening.

This year we decided to plant green beans in all four beds. We like green beans. My grandfather, who was a good gardener, used to plant Kentucky Wonder beans. When he was in his declining years, we asked him what kind of birthday cake he wanted and he said, “Kentucky Wonder Cake.” I always smile when I see the packets of Kentucky Wonder green beans each spring. However, we plant Blue Lake Bush beans. Maybe someday I’ll request a Blue Lake birthday cake.

This year, our garden boxes have a curious look about them. I’m befuddled. Same dirt, same seeds, same amount of sun and water. Same guy planted the seeds on the same day. So much the same, yet the results are so different.

I find a great truth in this picture. All we can do as we serve the Lord in ministry is put the seed out there. Some seeds take and others just don’t. Jesus told a story about the four different kinds of soil (Mark 4:1-20) — in his illustration, only 25% of the seeds produced a harvest. I think about the two criminals crucified on either side of Jesus — one took hold and the other took offense. So I wonder about the people sitting in church yesterday and all the kids at VBS last week. Which ones have hearts open and ready to receive the good news?

What a relief that I’m not responsible for the result.

What a privilege to have the chance to sow a few seeds.

Orange Tree

 

 PB bought an orange tree — it even came in an orange pot.   He brought it home and set it on the deck, tag and all.  The next morning he got up, opened the blinds and looked out the window to behold a miracle.  Oranges!  Big,  juicy, shiny oranges.  What an amazing plant!

It’s hard to admit it when you’ve been fooled.  PB was a good sport, though, confessing that the tagboard citrus fruit looked like the real thing just for a split-second.  Now we get a kick out of pointing out our miraculous orange tree to every unsuspecting guest.  They are so impressed — until they see our smirks and take a closer look.  It may appear to be an orange, but if it doesn’t smell like an orange, or feel like an orange, or taste like an orange, it’s probably not an orange.  Trouble is, looks can be deceiving.   From a distance, that orange tag is pretty convincing.  Zoom out far enough, and what is fake can be mistaken as real.  Maybe that’s why we don’t like to let people get too close.  Our cardboard fruit will be revealed for what it is. 

That little plant sitting outside my kitchen window has become a daily reminder to me: it’s not enough to look like a Jesus-follower.  I had better sound like one and act like one and even smell like one (believers are “the fragrance of life”. 2 Cor. 2:16).   If I want to bear real fruit, it has to come from the real Vine.

I am the vine; you are the branches.  If you remain in Me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.  John 15:5

 

Foot Washing

Our church joined with several others in town for an ecumenical communion service last night.  We listened once again to the story of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet.  And once again, a layer was peeled away and a fresh understanding of the old story began to form in my mind.  Hang in there with me as I wander toward a point.

The night of the Last Supper, Jesus knew that “he had come from God and was returning to God.” (John 13:3)  He was fully aware that he was about to leave his group of friends; men with whom he had spent three years, day in and day out.  When I was in high school, I spent a summer on a mission project.  Our team went through a lot together in those few weeks and by the time it was coming to an end, we had grown very close.  Leaving each other was hard and tearful.  How difficult it must have been for Jesus to spend one last night with close friends.  He also knew he was going to be tortured and put to death.  So often, for me, the anticipation of having to go through something difficult is almost as bad as having to actually go through it.  Facing a scary medical test or needing to confront someone on a touchy issue can loom large in my mind before the encounter even takes place.  How heavy must have been the thoughts going through Jesus’ mind that night.

Last evening it became clear to me that Jesus was suffering as he washed his friends’ dirty feet.  He was crushed beneath the weight of saying goodbye, facing a gruesome death and bearing the sin of the world.  Yet in the midst of his own personal suffering, he served.

I’m most likely to serve when I’ve had a good night’s sleep, enjoyed a hot cup of coffee and have a fairly clear schedule.  Even menial tasks like picking up the nursery, putting music back in folders, or washing out coffee pots, are met with a good attitude.  But if I’m not feeling well, or I’m weighed down with worries, or overwhelmed by everything that needs to get done, my servanthood wanes.  It’s hard for me to serve when I’m suffering.

I was reminded of a quote by Calvin Miller: “You are most mature when you minister to others in their pain, without reminding them that you yourself have problems.  To minister to others even when you need ministry is to liberate your soul from small addictions to yourself.” 

Jesus was not addicted to himself. 

I am addicted to myself.

I am most like Jesus when I am not serving myself, but serving others.

I am most like Jesus when I serve others in the middle of my suffering.

Selah

I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you….Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.  John 13:15, 17

 

Presence

I love the way Moses and God talk to each other.  The conversation at the burning bush (Exodus 3) sounds a lot like some talks I’ve had with God.

“Dinah, do such-and-such.”

“What?  Huh?  Who am I to do such-and-such?…….Suppose I do it and something-or-other happens…..then what?…….What if no one listens to me?…….Lord, I’m not good at that…….in fact, I have never been good at that………Please send someone else…..”

Thirty chapters, ten plagues, one deliverance and a lot of manna later, Moses sounds very different.  Instead of making a list of excuses when God tells him to lead the Hebrew people across the desert, the seasoned shepherd simply says, “If You don’t go with us, do not send us at all.”  It seems Moses stopped saying “no” to God when he realized he had the Presence of God.

I like that approach.  In the mornings, when the alarm goes off, I say, “Lord, if you don’t come with me into this day, I’m not going.”  Of course, He promises to never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5), so eventually my feet hit the floor and we begin the day together.  There hasn’t been one morning when He’s said, “I’m taking the day off, so you’d better just stay in bed.”   Not once.  The assurance of His Presence is what I need to face the day.  No excuses.

The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend.  Exodus 33:11