Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

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Worth the wait

On a recent repeat episode of “Antiques Roadshow,” I caught a segment featuring a man with two 19th century paintings by J.F. Kensett that he’d purchased at a yard sale. He told the AR appraiser that he once had them appraised for $800-$900 by a woman who also offered a buyer for the paintings. The AR appraiser, after examining the paintings and consulting with colleagues, told the man a conservative auction estimate for the paintings was $30,000-$60,000 each. Understandably, the man was speechless. (A transcript of this exchange can be found at www.pbs.org/wgbh/roadshow/archive/200605A41.html) His is not the first story of this kind I’ve heard on the show. I always wonder how close these people came to accepting a first, and lesser, offer for their valuables and what must be going through their minds when they find out they were almost robbed of the true value.

We can be just as easily duped about life. How often do we settle for what is good, or something we think is good, when if we wait we will have something with a value beyond compare?
Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls, and upon finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.” (Matthew 13:44-46)
Life is a treasure with which we are entrusted for a time, but we so easily sell it for less than what it’s worth. We sell ourselves to our jobs, success, retirement accounts, houses, entertainment, “stuff” and even our families. And we miss the point if that’s all we make life about. Jesus is telling his disciples in this passage that there’s something far greater to invest our lives in than anything we can own or see. He’s calling people to salvation, the promise and assurance of life forever.
Only when we look to Jesus can we discover what life is truly worth. The apostle Paul twice in his letters tells us we were bought at a price. John 3:16 tells us the price — Jesus’ death on the cross for sins he never committed. But because of that price, we’re promised an inheritance in heaven if we accept that we need Jesus and what he did because of our sins.
And God, because He’s a generous God, doesn’t only leave us with a promise of good things to come. He promises that with Him, life here, in the meantime, can be as good as it gets, His way, not the world’s way.
“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10, NASB)
It’s easier to value what’s right in front of us, to treasure what we can see and believe what the world tells us is valuable, but like the man on “Antiques Roadshow,” if we wait for the Expert’s assessment, we’ll find a value far greater than we could have dreamed.

Dis-clothes-sure

I’ve come to enjoy hanging clothes out on the line. Some weeks, I wait for a sunny day to do laundry just so I can take the wash outside to let it line dry. When we first moved here, clothesline drying was a necessity. Our rental house came with a washer, but we didn’t own a dryer, so we had to make do with the natural drying abilities of the sun. In time for winter, we bought a used dryer, so our laundry schedule became a little more flexible. Still, if given the choice, I’ll walk the clothes outside to hang up rather than haul them downstairs to the dryer. (Our washer is on the main floor in the kitchen; our dryer’s in the basement.)

In a region full of Amish and Mennonite homes, clothes hanging on the line is a common sight, even in winter. What isn’t so common is openness, and I don’t mean that people here aren’t friendly. The opposite is true, in fact. We’ve made many wonderful friends here. But I’m told, and we’ve been able to observe it as well, that Pennsylvania Dutch culture is quite closed. People aren’t terribly willing to tell you their struggles, their secrets or even to share much about their relationship with God. Come to think of it, I can be that way, too, especially with people I don’t know well or haven’t known long.
What I find funny is that we can’t hide our laundry from the neighbors when we’re hanging it on the line. I try to surround our underwear with rows of T-shirts and pants, but really, it’s right there for everyone to see. I sometimes chuckle to myself when I see a clothesline that is highly visible to the street and has underwear hanging on it. It’s kind of silly, right? I mean, we all know that most people wear underwear, so therefore, at least one load of laundry each week will contain some “delicate” articles. I think it’s just slightly embarrassing to think about them being on display because for most people, underwear is not usually seen.
I think the same is true for our struggles, feelings and even, sometimes, our triumphs. We all know we have them, but because we don’t often see them, maybe we’re sometimes shocked when they’re suddenly disclosed or we come upon someone who isn’t afraid to share them with people. Maybe we’d be more comfortable with people’s personal lives if we saw them more often.
My husband and I aren’t terribly private people. I think he’s drawn me out of that a little bit, although as a writer, it sort of comes with the calling. We’re not afraid to tell you that we struggle or answer the “how are you?” question truthfully if we think you really want to know. In the last year I’ve taken some risks in letting people see some of our struggles and the emotions I wrestle with. It’s scary to be that vulnerable, but I’ve found in it a great reward, too: friendships — new and deepening. And some of the same struggles I’m going through.
While I don’t intend to blab my problems to every person I meet, I am hoping to be more honest and transparent with those in my circles of influence. I believe God puts us through situations and circumstances, difficult ones, especially, not just to strengthen our own faith but to help others with whom we’re in contact. The words of 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 come to mind: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” (NASB version)
May you be encouraged to open up about your struggles with people, and may you never look at underwear hanging on a clothesline the same way again!