These are my favorites.
Every single one of them.
The reds are my favorite.
The greens are my favorite, too.
The boys are my favorites.
And the girls are my favorites.
Romans 2:11 says, “For God does not show favoritism.”
I get it.
We are all His favorites.
When PB was about 10 years old, his family took a trip out west with some friends. Three carloads with five adults and seven kids set out to see the sights of the wild west. To keep boredom and mayhem to a minimum, they let the kids switch cars at every pit stop. The caravan pulled into Cody, Wyoming for some car repairs and then loaded up everybody and hit the road. At least, they thought they had everybody. Poor little PB looked down the street and saw his parent’s Vista Cruiser leaving without him. He ran down the road, chasing after them, crying and waving his arms. Good thing his dad happened to look in the rearview mirror. They had wrongly assumed their youngest son was in one of the other vehicles. Their traveling companions thought the little guy was in his parent’s car.
I’m so glad they didn’t leave PB there in Cody, Wyoming.
I might never have found him.
I’ve lost keys, engagement rings and concert tickets, but as a parent of four, I never left town without a kid. I do have a foggy memory of having a store manager get on the public address system and announce, “If there is a Katie Overlien in the store, please come to the registers. Your mother is waiting.”
It happens to the best of us.
It happened to Mary and Joseph.
They were on their 70 mile return trip from celebrating Passover in Jerusalem, when Mary said to Joseph, “I thought he was with you” and Joseph said to Mary, “I thought he was with you.” What a terrible feeling for a parent to realize their child is missing. And this boy wasn’t just any kid. He was God’s Son. They had lost God’s Son. How would they explain this to God?
“Thank you for sending Your Son to save the world from sin. Sorry, but we lost him.”
Talk about parental guilt.
This story has a happy ending. After three sleepless nights, Mary and Joseph found their boy, talking theology with the priests in the temple. Of course.
Author Lauren Winner writes, “I have great sympathy for Joseph and Mary. I lose Jesus all the time.” Me too.
I lose Jesus when I’m so set on my agenda that I go for days before noticing I’m miles down the road and I’ve left Him in my dust.
I lose Jesus when I’m caught up in the crowd, sure He must be there somewhere. Probably. Maybe. I guess I’d better check.
I lose Jesus when I look in all the wrong places for what only He can give and then finally find Him in worship. Of course.
I lose Jesus when anxiety throbs, worry festers and sleepless nights keep me from trusting that He is about His Father’s business, even if I don’t understand.
The fact is, Jesus is never the lost one.
I am.
“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” Luke 19:10
In December, I learned to be quiet. That’s all.
So instead of 10 things I learned in December, here is a list of 10 things I read in 2016. I collect quotes like some people collect antique dishes or shoes or shot glasses. Here’s a peek at some good quotes from my reading year.
1. “Some days I am not sure if my faith is riddled with doubt or whether, graciously, my doubt is riddled with faith…I doubt; I am uncertain; I am restless; prone to wander. And yet glimmers of holy keep interrupting my gaze.” Lauren Winner, Still: Notes On a Mid-Faith Crisis
2. “The library was a little old shabby place. Francie thought it was beautiful. The feeling she had about it was as good as the feeling she had about church. She liked the combined smell of worn leather bindings, library paste and freshly inked stamping pads better than she liked the smell of burning incense at high mass.” Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
3. “Right theology is ultimately hospitality that lives broken right open — with your time and your space and your heart. Every day you can do one thing that you wish you could do for everyone.” Ann Voskamp, The Broken Way
4. “If you want to really tick people off, just bring up the word Jesus… Say Jesus and people either get happy, or they get mad. They either smile, or a cloud comes over their faces…No other name has such potency. Not Clinton, not Gandhi, not Thatcher, not Lennon.” Carolyn Weber, Surprised by Oxford: A Memoir
5. “I have spent so much of my believing life trying to chain myself to a rock in order to prove my love to Jesus that I may have missed the chance to be chained to Jesus instead… Maybe I’ve missed the point all along. Maybe being chained to Jesus doesn’t involve a chain at all.” Micha Boyett, Found: A Story of Questions, Grace and Everyday Prayer
6. “Time doesn’t stop. Your life doesn’t stop and wait until you get ready to start living it.” Wendell Berry, Hannah Coulter
7. “The ordinary activities I find most compatible with contemplation are walking, baking bread, and doing laundry.” Kathleen Norris, The Quotidian Mysteries
8. “Courage is not something that you already have that makes you brave when the tough times start. Courage is what you earn when you’ve been through the tough times and you discover they aren’t so tough after all.” Malcolm Gladwell, David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits and the Art of Battling Giants
9. “Had God pulled me from Adam’s rib and placed me naked in the garden, the story would be no different. Let’s not blame Eve anymore. If she hadn’t eaten the fruit it most certainly would have been me. I would have eaten it again and again, and then I would have given you a bite.” Amber C. Hains, Wild in the Hollow: On Chasing Desire and Finding the Broken Way Home
10. “It seems that God arranged the most humiliating circumstances possible for his entrance, as if to avoid any charge of favoritism.” Philip Yancey, as quoted in Watch For the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas
What’s in store for 2017? How about a little more Wendell Berry? I must have been a very good girl this year. Tell me, what book are you reading to start 2017?
Sometimes I wish God would rip open the heavens and speak actual words I can actually hear. Preferably in English since I don’t know Greek or Hebrew or Aramaic. And not in King’s English, please, with the thees and thous and shalts and arts. Just normal midwest plain talk.
I should stop wishing, because every time I tear open my Bible, He speaks. Thousands of words on the pages of scripture are waiting for me to perk up my ears and pay attention. Real conversation with the God of the universe can take place, with a little effort and dedication.
So let’s get to it, shall we? Here’s the new reading plan that will take us through 2017. It’s a little different than in years past and may not appeal to everyone, but it’s a place to start. I plan to post a reflection at the end of each week that goes along with the passage we’ve been digging into on Monday – Friday.
Click on “2017 Bible Reading Plan” at the top of the page for more information. Let me know if you’re in!
(Nice little bookmarks with the 2017 Reading Plan are available in the church narthex. Or I’d be happy to send you one! Email me at dinah.overlien@gmail.com)
“And now you will be silent and not able to speak…” Luke 1:20
Gabriel zapped Zechariah’s tongue and rendered him mute.
Me too, I thought.
I could use a silent Advent, a season of calm, an absence of words.
“…until the day this happens…”
Zechariah had to wait, wordless, until the birth of his son, John.
“Immediately his mouth was opened
and his tongue was loosed,
and he began to speak,
praising God.”
Luke 1:64
After months of making signs and writing notes,
something immediate happened.
Words of praise exploded out of his opened mouth.
A Holy Spirit song burst from his loosened tongue.
Me too, I thought.
Advent has come.
My wordless wait is over.
With the angels let us sing Alleluia to our King.
Glory be to God on high.
Go, tell it.
1. If I live to be 81 years old, I will see six more presidential elections. Lord, have mercy.
2. Inspiration comes from unexpected places. I received a word of encouragement from my daughter’s husband’s mother’s sister’s husband and it was enough to keep me going.
3. Evie is getting a brother in April! It took me a while, but eventually I caught on when I realized everyone was wearing blue one Friday night. The grand score is back to even: boys – 4, girls – 4.
4. If you would have told me five years ago that I would be staying up until midnight cheering on the Chicago Cubs in the seventh game of the World Series, I wouldn’t have believed it. Never say never.
5. On October 4, 1991, I was issued a passport. It expired on October 3, 2001 with no stamps decorating its pages. I am reapplying for a new passport even though I have no plans to go anywhere. My hair looks ridiculous in that ’91 photo.
6. Good gravy is the cornerstone of a successful Thanksgiving dinner. PB grew up with a dad who was a gravy connoisseur, a gravy grandmaster, a gravy guru. So I rolled up my sleeves and roasted, simmered, and whisked. Five hours later, I had a gravy that PB declared “the best I’ve ever tasted”. Grandpa O would have been proud.
7. Hebrews had a word for me this month. “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.” (Hebrews 12:2) I can’t begin to count how many times I whispered to myself this month, “eyes on Jesus, eyes on Jesus”.
8. There’s nothing cuter than watching a four year old muster up his courage to play the “Pie in the Face” game. Unless it’s watching him get a handful of whipped cream in the nose. I hope the four year old reminded his parents that they both offered him a dollar to stick his adorable face in the line of fire.
9. Convincing middle school boys to dress up like angels for the Christmas program is challenging, even if they are the archangels Michael and Gabriel. I’m scouring Pinterest for manly angel costume ideas. Flaming swords might win them over.
10. Advent is a respite this year. I’m eager to enter into a quieter season. More praying and singing, less talking and wrangling. More candles and music, less TV and Facebook. More glory to God in the highest, more peace on earth, more goodwill. It’s time to treasure up some things and ponder them in our hearts.
November has been noisy.
So many, many words flung here and there.
So many, many opinions, weighty statements, impassioned posts.
I felt myself drowning in the sea of words,
so I stopped using them for a while.
Why add to the noise?
Shhhhhh.
It’s Advent.
Be still.
And know.
That I.
Am God.
Remember?
He is King of kings and Lord of lords.
Don’t forget!
The government will be upon His shoulders.
Reminder:
Prepare Him room.
Let’s scooch over a little bit, away from the focus on ourselves.
Let’s toss out some of the clutter in our minds and hearts.
Let’s turn the volume down and lift our eyes up.
Make some room for Jesus.
He’s on His way.
He couldn’t come at a better time.
1. I think March should be shorter and October should be longer. How about we transfer a few soggy, slushy spring days to golden, gorgeous fall?
2. Old shoe friends are dear. We had a visit this month from a friend who was in college with PB and stood up in our wedding. We haven’t seen him in ten years, but our friendship is comfortable and easy, like an old shoe. There was lots of reminiscing mixed in with sharing current struggles and hopes. These two college boys have stayed the course and served the Lord well. And they’re not done.
3. The Church is not dead. PB and I spent a day in Chicago with 1700 people who gathered to worship and pray for the future of our denomination. As we were cruising down the interstate that morning, I watched the sun rise and I was filled with hope. As we declared our “amen” with one voice, I was filled with grateful optimism. As we drove back home that night, I was filled with awe at how much Christ loves His Bride, the Church.
4. I always cry at weddings. While most guests watch the bride as she comes down the aisle, I prefer to keep my eye on the groom. If he is at all emotional, I’m a goner. If the father of the bride says, “Her mother and I” with a crack in his voice, I’m digging for a tissue. And if my son is a groomsman standing up with his buddies, I’m a puddle.
5. Ruby is getting a sister! Our daughter found out that her March baby will be a girl, balancing the scale in their family (2 boys, 2 girls), but upsetting the equilibrium in our grand total (3 boys, 4 girls).
6. Planting bulbs in October is an act of faith. For the first time in my life, I stuck some bulbs in the cold autumn ground, thanks to a friend who offered to help. I don’t understand how those hard knobs can survive winter under a layer of dirt and leaves. And snow and ice. And subzero temperatures. It’s hard to believe there’s a flower in there, willing to wait in the dark for months — something God alone can see.
7. Adult children are good teachers. I used to write down cute things my kids said. Now I write down their wise words. This month a blog post by my daughter taught me a much needed lesson. Sometimes when it feels like the world is falling to pieces, I need to remember, “It’s not falling apart, it’s falling into place.”
8. Wendell Berry is my new favorite author. I read “Hannah Coulter” this summer and just finished “That Distant Land”. I borrowed one title from the library and the other from a friend. The characters in his books have become such good friends of mine that I need them in my house. I rarely purchase a book AFTER reading it, but Nathan and Burlie and Wheeler and Lyda simply must live on my shelf, near enough to visit every so often.
9. Sometimes a person needs an apple cider donut, especially in October. Last week, I was that person. I went to all three grocery stores nearby, the bakery downtown and the apple orchard down the road, but there was not one apple cider donut within a ten mile radius. Obviously, the craving hasn’t let up. Please, someone find me an apple cider donut.
10. Quote of the month, from “That Distant Land”: “Boys,” he said, “all I want is a good day and a long row.” May we recognize the days we are given as good and the long rows a blessing.
Bonus! Cute kids in Halloween costumes! Couldn’t resist.
I’ve got six little people in my life. Soon to be eight. Under the age of five. The littlest one is learning how to say words like “momma” and “daddy” while the biggest one is talking in complete paragraphs about dinosaurs and quantum physics. It’s the kids in the middle group that are in various stages of parlance. Because their thoughts are developing so quickly, it’s frustrating for them when their ability to communicate hasn’t quite caught up.
Hence, the whining.
“Use your words,” their mommas say.
I’m a contemplative type. I’m happy as a clam to sit in my office, in the quiet early morning hours. I bask in the silence and solitude. Most of my thoughts and prayers are internal, rarely uttered aloud. I’m not after some sort of mystical experience, but instead have learned to enjoy sitting in the presence of God. As Jan Johnson says, “I just look at God and God looks at me.”
Maybe that approach is good some of the time, but there is a need for balance. If PB and I just sat and looked at each other all the time, it might get kind of boring. Or it could turn into a giggle-fest. When I read Hosea 14 last week, verse 2 pressed hard on me.
“Take words with you and return to the Lord.”
I shouldn’t underestimate the value of putting my thoughts and prayers into actual words. God spoke creation into being with words, Jesus was called “the Word made flesh”, the Spirit carried along the writers of the Word of God. He’s a conversational God, waiting for my response.
It’s good to come to Him in quietness and trust,
but I am also invited to “use my words.”
My dad was a Navy seaman aboard the USS Fanshaw Bay when World War II came to an end. He was stationed in Japan after the surrender and wrote home to his parents about his experiences in Tokyo. One night, he and his Navy buddies got tickets to a show where the orchestra played popular American songs. On December 5, 1945, he wrote, “Much to our surprise, some numbers were even sung in English, like ‘Blue Skies’ and ‘Dinah'”.
My dad was singing my name before I was even a dim glimmer in his eye.
Unfortunately, “Dinah” isn’t the only song with my name in it. Another ditty that I have heard over and over is “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” which contains the lovely chorus, “Dinah won’t you blow, Dinah won’t you blow, Dinah won’t you blow your horn.” The lyrics go on to say, “Someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah, strumming on the old banjo.”
I don’t know who this Dinah was, and I don’t know who was strumming on the banjo or why they were in the kitchen.
However, my name is Dinah. I have a kitchen. And with a bit of coercion, I could probably talk PB into strumming a banjo.
“Someone’s In the Kitchen with Dinah” is an idea that is brewing. Why not invite all the best cooks I know to come into my virtual kitchen and share their best recipes? I tried the idea out on a few people — my daughters, my husband, a dear friend and a stranger I was seated next to at a wedding reception. All five thought it was a wonderful plan.
To be fair, Dinah Shore did write a cook book by this name.
My dad had a poster of Dinah Shore on board ship.
Is all this a coincidence?
Hmmm.
This idea will simmer on the back burner in my kitchen for awhile.
In the meantime, I’ll keep my eyes open for a banjo.
a small drop of ink 