I love to rummage around various spaces looking for treasure.

I used to dream of being given access to an attic in an old house filled with mostly junk and having the glorious adventure of finding the few non-junk things hidden in the dust. The fact that I define treasure as either the things that are worth more than anyone would imagine (you know, the stuff that makes us keep tuning into Antiques Road Show even when we really don’t like it that much) as well as the stuff that has value in the contribution it can make to a new thing, a new usefulness, a new expression.

And I say rummage, but I really mean something that is a little less chaotic than rummaging while not quite like an archeological dig. However, now that I say that, this is another of my life-long dreams. Digging in the dirt and sand and stone and finding history–or gold–would be totally cool, too.

I used to make fake treasure maps.

I still wander into the occasional garage sale (way more satisfying in older neighborhoods or small towns than in the ‘burbs) or antique store (the kind that are a mess are more inviting to me) with a sense of hope that I’ll find something really great that no one else has found or, if they have, they have missed the greatness of the find.

I’ve been wondering lately how this bent impacts the way I approach studying God’s Word–wondering if this something in me is the same something that makes me tire of pre-packaged overly processed teaching.

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