Back in the 1980’s some people became convinced the tension between the U.S.S.R. and the United States would lead to WWIII and nuclear disaster.
My parents were among them.
So were my husband, Leif’s parents.
Both responded by burying treasures in the yard. They dug holes and buried Bibles, food, and silver coins. My parents even built a bomb shelter. We canned corn. We dug a well. We lived a crazy awesome life (and I share the hilarious details in The Organic God).
Years passed. The Cold War ended.
But my beloved Mom couldn’t find her precious silver coins. Her treasure map wasn’t detailed enough. Our front lawn looked like a scene from gophers gone wild.
I’m not sure she ever found those silver coins. Maybe some day someone in the mountains of North Carolina will stumble on them and enjoy a great afternoon at an arcade.
This giggly memory reminds me of a more contemporary treasure hunt that’s going on between God and us.
This hunt begins with the words, “Search me and know my heart.”