One of my favorite pictures of the lowest place:
“The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all he has and buys that field.” (Matthew 13:44)
The man finds a treasure hidden in a field. He’s walking through someone else’s field and stumbles upon it. He can’t take the treasure, because the field belongs to someone else. What if that person were to claim ownership? He sees the treasure, but it’s not his. Not yet.
The man has an idea. He covers up the treasure again so no one else will find it. Then he goes home and sells everything he has. He’s getting rid of his house, his clothes, his livestock if he has any. He’s selling things for cheap, trying to get together a lump some of cash as fast as possible. And as his possessions are going, he’s feeling more and more excited. “Get it out of here,” he’s thinking. “Get rid of it all! The faster it goes, the faster I can buy the field and claim the treasure!”
To me, this story stands in direct contrast to another picture, in another Gospel. Mark tells about a rich young ruler who comes to Jesus asking for eternal life. They talk for a little, and then:
“Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, ‘You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” (Mark 17:21)
How did the rich young ruler respond?
“Disheartened by the saying, he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.” (Mark 17:22)
Two people, two opposite reactions. The first man joyfully sells all he has. He can’t get rid of it fast enough. The rich young ruler simply thinks about selling his possessions, and he goes away sorrowful.
At any given moment in time, there is a treasure right in front of me. It’s waiting for me to reach out and take it. The treasure is: the love of God. It’s a priceless treasure, all around me at all times.
At any given moment, there are various things that prevent me from resting in the pure love of God. God loves me, but I’m planning an event, and I’m worried about whether or not it will go well. God loves me, but a friend of mine might be upset with me, and I can’t rest because I need them to be ok. God loves me, but the kids won’t go to sleep, and they’re driving me crazy, and I really need time to myself.
So the treasure lies hidden in the field.
But there are certain moments when I reach the breaking point. Moments where I give up control and admit that I need God. Moments when the pain is too much, or all my plans are falling apart, or I feel like I’ve failed as a mom–and then, for an oh-so-brief window, all of a sudden nothing else is as important as hearing the voice of God.
It feels like the man who found the treasure, because in that moment, I’m getting rid of all I have. Worries? Plans? Guilt? Personal space? Doesn’t matter. Those things can wait. Get them out of here. Right here, right now, for at least 30 seconds, I’m going to give my full attention to God, no holds barred, letting myself be completely present to him.
Then, God speaks. I hear him. His love is real. I never want to leave.
God’s love brings incomparable joy. But part of it, at least a small part of the joy, comes from the…power? ability? to get rid of everything else. Like ruthlessly going through your house and throwing away whole shelves of junk. Clearing out space. Getting free so the real life has room to happen.
Most of the time, I’m the rich young ruler. God’s love calls me, but I go away sad, because I can’t give up the things I’m holding onto, not even for a moment. But then, it only takes a moment to tap into eternity. And those moments when I find the treasure, when I sell everything, when I buy the field and claim it for my own–those moments add up, slowly, over time. And so I go, day by day, waiting for them.
The Lowest Place 