The Old Apple Tree*

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When I was a young girl, I used to love the apple tree that was in the pasture by our house. It had a low hanging branch that made it easy to climb. I would take my Nancy Drew book, jump over the fence, and then hoist myself up to sit on a limb, resting my back against the trunk. Reading a book while sitting in a tree was magical.

These days, I might sit under a tree with a book, but my climbing days are over. Still, trees hold an allure for me. I’d take a walk in the woods over a stroll on the beach any day. (Unless it’s February — then a stroll on the beach can’t be beat.)

The opening song in the Hebrew book of prayers, Psalm 1, tells me to learn from the trees.

“…be like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither…” Ps. 1:3

There are some instructions on how to be this kind of tree:

  • Get planted in a good place
  • Be still to let living water saturate the roots
  • Pay attention to the seasons
  • Graciously share what develops
  • Stay refreshed and vibrant

So I’m asking myself some questions:

  • Where do I plant myself most days? In ungodly counsel and in the seat of mockers (Ps. 1:1), or in God’s Word, meditating day and night (Ps. 1:2)?
  • What am I soaking up? Fresh springs of living water from the Lord, or the lifeless stagnation of worldly advice?
  • Am I willing to accept seasons of dormancy and stillness, or do I constantly push for peak productivity?
  • During times of prosperity and growth, will I be generous and eager to share, or will I hoard the bounty for myself?
  • As I grow older, how will I keep myself from withering up and being blown away like chaff (Ps. 1:4)? Will I abide in the Vine, remaining in Him, bearing much fruit (John 15:5)?

What kind of tree would I like to be?
With over 60,000 species in the world,
there is plenty of room for variety.

I have no visions of becoming
a tall pine
or a stately oak
or a majestic redwood.
I would like to be an apple tree,
with a low hanging branch,
in a green pasture,
inviting small ones to crawl up
and sit a while with a book,
munching on the sweet fruit
of a life lived in Jesus.

*Re-post from January 10, 2022—Be Like a Tree

Other posts about trees:
Tree of Life
My Tree
10 Things I Learned in January

Withering Sights

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“Flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come.”
Song of Solomon 2:12

This is true.

The peony bush that we were gifted 4 years ago bloomed for the first time.
I literally broke out in song.

“The grass withers and the flowers fade….”
Isaiah 40:8

This is also true.

The next morning my magnificent bloom was busted.
I literally groaned.

“The grass withers and the flowers fade,
but the word of our God endures forever.”
Isaiah 40:8

This is the truest of truths.

I may be radiant one day and wrecked the next,
but the Word of God will never wither or fade.

“It is impossible for God to lie.
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul,
firm and secure.”
Hebrews 6:18-19

First Responders

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We should be very thankful for First Responders. They are true servants, willing to be called on at anytime—night or day—to help people in trouble. These highly trained professionals often arrive first at the scene of an emergency, not knowing what they will be facing. No matter what, they are expected to take action in crisis situations. Because of their hours of intense training, they are equipped to handle just about anything.

I couldn’t do it.
In high-pressure situations, I tend to freeze.
And then cry.
And then pass out, if blood is involved.

First responders don’t ask who is in trouble, or what caused the incident, or how the situation escalated. They just go as fast as they can to whoever needs rescue. They’re not motivated by public recognition, medals of honor, or accolades on Facebook. Caring for people and the community is what drives them.

Could I be a first responder of a different kind?

I’ve been training in the ways of Christ for over 50 years now.
I’m aware of the dangers that living in this fallen world can create.
Am I willing to enter into perilous places for the sake of rescuing others?
Can I be someone who responds first by
noticing a need,
offering a hand,
running into the fire,
if necessary?

The world needs true servants, willing to be called on anytime—night or day.

“Be merciful to those who doubt;
save others by snatching them from the fire.”
Jude 22-23

Send in the Replacements

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“We don’t stop loving a person when they are hurt or sick.
No, we grow stronger so they can lean on us.”*
The Great Alone, Kristin Hannah

My brother had hip replacement surgery this week.
A few years ago he had both knees replaced—at the same time.
Then a hip.
Then a shoulder.
And now, the other hip.
All those new joints should keep him pain-free for a long time.

I spent a couple days with him this week.
I filled his water bottle.
I replenished his bird feeders.
I ran his errands.
I waited on him.
Just like old times.

It’s amazing what modern medicine can do.
The doctor removed a diseased bone structure
and swapped it out for an artificial one.

It’s amazing what modern medicine can’t do.
The doctor couldn’t create a new, living joint
just like the one my brother traded in.

It’s astounding what God can do.
He can take a hard, sick heart
and replace it
with a soft, healthy heart
and throw in a new spirit, too.

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; 
I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”
Ezekiel 36:26

*Quote from Grandpa Dan’s daily emails “Think Great Thoughts—Live Great Lives”

Join the Conversation

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“God spoke today in flowers,
and I, who was waiting on words,
almost missed the conversation.”
~ Ingrid Goff-Maidoff ~

I spend a lot of time waiting on words.
Hours have been spent staring at a blank screen—
hoping letters will drift down and come together in words,
praying the words will join up into concise sentences,
trusting the sentences will band together into sensible paragraphs.

If I stay close enough to the Author of Life,
I figure I stand a chance at catching a few meaningful words.

On my “About Dinah” page I wrote: “Writing has always been my pathway to finding the truth in both my heart and God’s heart. Words swirl in and out of my life in many ways. I like to read them, write them, sing them and put them into crossword puzzles.”

That’s as true now as it was in 2010. (16 years ago?!) 

But lately, I’ve been awakened to another way of capturing truth, beauty and goodness. It seems the Author is also a Gardener.

Charles Spurgeon said that the created world is God’s “outward temple” and that nature is “the second Bible.”

David wrote psalms about stars and skies, the sun and moon, oceans and trees.

Jesus taught that there is much to learn when we are attentive to nature. He suggested that a meditative look at a wild flower could help us become less anxious. (Matthew 6:28-29)

“All nature sings and round me rings the music of the spheres.” *

Here I’ve been, waiting on words,
and in the meantime,
I’ve been missing out on the language of
lilies, oak trees and the Milky Way.

May this be the summer of listening for the music
and joining the conversation.

* “This Is My Father’s World,” Maltbie D. Babcock, 1901

My Bleeding Heart

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Feast your eyes on these beauties.

Bleeding hearts are my favorite spring flower.

“They bloom like a love letter in spring, then quietly rest.
And every year, they come back with the same soft drama.”*

“Bleeding Heart” sounds ominous, though, doesn’t it?
Less like a love letter, more like a serious condition.
Less like soft drama, more like E.R. trauma.

Despite the dire-sounding name, there are some delightful lessons here.

  • Do you see those delicate blooms hanging onto the small branch? Cling to the Source of Life if you want to produce beauty.
  • Do you notice how the blossoms come in clusters? Don’t go rouge and isolate. Gather with your people regularly.
  • Do you know that these are the first to flower in the spring? Go ahead and flourish, even if the conditions are cold and harsh and you are the only one.
  • Do you observe how the dark green leaves set off the pop of pink? Be the background support that lets others stand out.
  • Do you realize this is a plant that comes back year after year? Keep showing up, day after day, month after month, year after year.

Consider the lilies, how they grow:
they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you,
even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed
like one of these.
Luke 12:27


*Heidi from gracerosefarm.com

Going, Going, Gone

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Happy Ascension Day!

I never paid much attention to Ascension Day, and for many believers, this day will go by unnoticed. In some countries, it’s a public holiday with government offices, schools and businesses closed. In their experience, when a king or queen ascends to the throne, it’s cause for great celebration.

“After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. ‘Men of Galilee,’ they said, ‘why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.’” Acts 1:9-11

What a dramatic exit! Jesus was going away for good this time. He had been coming and going for 40 days, but this was it. His feet left the ground and He levitated higher and higher. The disciples witnessed the whole thing, until a cloud got in their line of sight.

They stood there, staring into the sky. Whoever saw anything like it? A man floating up into the clouds! Who could have looked away at such a sight? Eleven men strained to see, with necks stretched back, heads cocked to the side. Oh, surely Jesus was smiling. Just think of His own excitement in returning to heaven, to His Father, to a victory party and coronation. Perhaps He had a tinge of sadness leaving His Men of Galilee, but He had confidence in the Holy Spirit to carry on the mission in them.

Then a voice said, “Why are you standing here looking skyward?” Surely more smiles, right? The angelic messengers had bombshell information: the very same Jesus would return in the same way He left.

He left physically.
He will come back in the same way.
He left visibly.
He will come back in the same way.
He left from the Mount of Olives.
He will come back in the same way.
He left in the presence of the disciples.
He will come back in the same way.
He left blessing His church.
He will come back in the same way.*

What will you do today to celebrate your crowned King
who sits on His throne with authority and power?
Look intently up into the sky for a few minutes?
Kneel before the glorious and majestic King Jesus?
Or, like the disciples, go out worshiping Him with great joy?

“God exalted Jesus to the highest place
and gave Him the name that is above every name.”
Phil. 2:9

*David Guzik commentary

A Woman of Letters

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I have no letters after my name.
No MSW, no PhD, no MDiv.
Just plain old me.
But, let me tell you, I’ve got letters.
Boxfuls of letters.

There is a box in my closet labeled “Montana Letters.” It is full of crinkly old papers covered with spidery long-hand penmanship. Somehow, these letters traveled from Montana to Wisconsin between 1899-1906, probably by train and wagon. They were written by my great-great-grandma Harriet to her daughter, my great-grandma, Kate. Faded two cents stamps on the envelopes are postmarked with a place and date. The letters were passed down from generation to generation and survived in musty basements for 120 years. I treasure them now, but at the time, they weren’t anything special. Just updates on the family, reports on how the crops were doing, and longings to see each other again.

But that’s not all.

I compiled all the letters my dad wrote to his parents during his Navy days aboard the USS Fanshaw Bay during WW2 and bound them into a book titled “Letters Home: 1944-1946.”

In another box, there are more envelopes secured by a rubber band. These are letters PB and I wrote back and forth as we were falling in love and anticipating marriage. They still smell like Emeraude perfume.

I have postcards my kids wrote home during their week at Camp Lucerne. “Mom, I forgot to pack socks so I’ve been wearing the same pair all week.”

There are several plastic storage totes full of cards and notes I have received over the years from family and friends—the ones with a heart-felt message written by hand. They mean something, still.

God is the original writer, using His finger to inscribe words into a rock.
“He gave Moses the two flat stones on which he had written all his laws
with his own hand.”
Exodus 31:18

Twenty-one books of the Bible started as letters.
I’m grateful Paul didn’t have the option of texting or emailing his messages to the churches.

“Your very lives are a letter that anyone can read by just looking at you.
Christ himself wrote it—
not with ink, but with God’s living Spirit;
not chiseled into stone, but carved into human lives.”
2 Corinthians 3:3

Are you inspired to write a real live letter?
Send me a message and I’ll give you my mailing address!
dinah.overlien@gmail.com

If We Knew Then

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Look at us.

So young and full of hope.

When the camera shutter opened and captured this moment,
there were so many things we didn’t know.

We didn’t know that—

  • four children would fill our hearts and our home.
  • our four children would marry four other children and produce 12 more children.
  • we would spend agonizing weeks in pediatric ICU.
  • hours would be spent at baseball/basketball/softball/volleyball games, to our delight.
  • musicals, plays and concerts would be our chief entertainment and joy.
  • there would be many trips to the ER for stitches and broken bones.
  • gallons of Kool-Aid and millions of chocolate chip cookies would be consumed.
  • one heart would need three bypasses.
  • six different houses would become home.
  • hundreds of sermons would be preached and thousands of songs would be sung.

If we knew then what we know now—
we’d do it all again.

Out of the Box

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One of the most dramatic events in the history of the world happened when God came out of the box.

Long before Indiana Jones, God gave instructions for the Ark of the Covenant, a wooden chest plated with gold. It measured 3 feet 9 inches long by 2 feet 3 inches wide and 2 feet 3 inches high. The cover was made of pure gold and was called “The Mercy Seat.”

It represented God’s presence and the Israelites carried that box wherever they went.

About 500 years later, King Solomon built a temple in Jerusalem, providing a new dwelling place for God’s presence. It was called “The Holy of Holies” and measured about 30 feet high by 30 feet wide by 30 feet deep—a perfect cube-shaped box. And a lot roomier.

In front of the entrance to “The Holy of Holies” a curtain hung, measuring 60 feet high, 30 feet wide and 4 inches thick. The massive tapestry was a visual reminder to the people that God was holy and separate. Nobody could approach that square space except one priest on one day of the year. There were not many volunteers.

When the Son roared from the cross “It is finished,”
the Father whispered from the throne, “It is beginning,”
and He ripped that curtain from top to bottom.
God came out of the box.

A few weeks ago I wrote about Jesus being “on the loose.”

Like Father, like Son.

“I tell you the truth:
the Son can do nothing on his own;
he does only what he sees his Father doing.
What the Father does, the Son also does.”
John 5:19