The word ‘treasure’ has been showing up in my morning readings; from different places, in different context. It finally catches me, slows me down enough to notice and ask:
What treasure does God have for me, long for me to accept?
What treasure lies in Lent for me this year?
What treasure lies in me?
And I wonder, what if I create a Treasure Box for Lent? With paints and glued-on plastic hearts and maybe some buttons, and fabrics and ric-rac trim. And maybe secret away little notes on scrappy pieces of paper in the box as Lent reveals her treasures.
“Is that okay?” I ask myself. “To walk into this time before Easter with more a notion of creating something fun than sacrifice?
Then, as eagerly as I ran to find the cigar box that I have had stashed away in my art supplies, ‘the achiever’ showed up all worried, just like when I am choosing the next blank-paged journal, that it might not be the right box? Asking performance questions about if I should or could finish it by a made-up deadline of Ash Wednesday?
“What is wrong with me,” I think. “Have I so quickly fallen into the trap of accomplishment without even the slightest glance and allowance for the process? Don’t you remember that God is more in the process business than outcome?”
“Go easy,” I hear. “It is the creating and discovery with God in the unknown that reveals the treasure.”
And so, I begin. And invite you too, to listen for what might guide you from the grip of thinking (too much). What art, song, dance, sport might loosen sometimes-strident, merit-based ideas of faith and move us towards the gentler wonder and mystery of the unknowing, the un-thought? The yet-to-be-created, the undiscovered? To listen for and explore how you might be called to discover your treasure of Lent.
“I am the Treasure, and the Glory of My Presence glistens and shimmers along the way.” – Jesus Calling by Sarah Young
“Lead us to the heart of life’s treasure that we may be bearers of the gift.” – Sounds of the Eternal, A Celtic Psalter by John Philip Newell
* Just a little note of support: It is never too late to begin a practice of prayer and play; to not put too hard of a deadline on yourself to start, do, finish, accomplish. Each day is a new beginning, and each response of the heart is a sacred journey.