Ok – I’ll admit it. For eight years now, I have been a fan and a follower of “The Curse of Oak Island.” For those of you unacquainted – let me say that I pity you greatly – but it has been a TV series in which two brothers, and a whole team of others, have been searching on an island in Nova Scotia for treasure that has been rumored for over 300 years. I won’t go into the many details, but it arose for them out of an article in Reader’s Digest in 1965 that described the work of others attempting to find treasure that might have been buried on the island by a whole possible list of “depositors,” from Francis Drake to the Knights Templar. It is rumored to have gold and silver, but also fine art, and even antiquities smuggled out of Europe centuries ago.
Now, I would be kidding if I said it was fast-paced. It’s a slow process with all sorts of equipment and experts and other treasure seekers who have signed on for the series. I expect more than likely that the greatest treasure come from the sponsors and viewership of the now nearly decade long show. But it really is irresistible, so long as you have an imagination that’s lets you pursue the “what ifs” that happen there. I am cruelly kidded by my wife and sons for being a faithful watcher, and especially now that I am retired, I can tape the show on Tuesday evening, and watch it as I have lunch of Wednesdays.
One of the characters on the show is an English fellow with a cockney accent named Gary, who is an expert with the metal detector. Whether it is searching through dug up piles of dirt, or going through areas of woods and beaches and such, Gary sweeps back and forth, and sure enough, an enticing beeping sounds is emitted from the detector, and whoever is the partner/assistant for the day gets to dig a small hole, until they find the item – whatever it is. Often it’s a nail or a piece of iron or an ox shoe or something – no gold coins yet – but at least it’s something, right? And you know sooner or later, there will be a jackpot. I’ve even disturbed my wife a bit by suggesting that perhaps we should buy two metal detectors and spend our spare time finding treasure. I will leave to your imagination the look Cheri’s gives me when that proposal is offered… for some reason, it’s doesn’t sound like something she is really interested in. However, when the time is right, I just may move forward with the plan, and start finding treasure on my own.
Ever since I was little, I have enjoyed the daydream of finding or discovering something of significance. I never walk past a penny on the sidewalk or street – “find a penny, pick it up, all day long you’ll – have a penny.” Indiana Jones and all the other treasure hunters in movies or in books create wonderful images of what “might be.” I remember once when we were up at a lake in the Black Hills, just sitting on the edge of a rocky shallow, that I looked down, and sure enough saw gold! Now, there were two small (did I mention small?) pieces of quartz, and nestled in the rocks were even smaller pieces of gold. It was a great day. It was almost as great as when Cheri and I were in Mexico walking along a rocky beach and she saw the glint of something and reached down and picked up a 24 inch 18 karat gold box chain necklace. I think I grew to love her more at that moment.
I’ve watched, and would love to try hunting for gems like rubies or emeralds or such, or even searching for meteorites. Doesn’t that sound like fun to you? Surely more fun than going to the mall!
The adventure of both seeking and finding things that appear to have been lost throughout time is exciting, and for me at least, captivating. I’ve found agates, and mammoth teeth, and in Israel, when we were allowed, I found in the “throw-away” piles of archeological digs all sorts of shards, and handles and other pieces of pottery with etched lines and interesting colors. There is a rush of adrenaline when you can find what you didn’t know you were looking for.
I know it may all sound silly, but that activity brings me joy. Sometimes, they are significant things, at least to me, but the greater significance is found in the hunt – in the searching – in the acting of finding itself.
You see, I believe every one of us hunts for things in life. I think we are born with pieces missing in our lives, and joy comes when we are able to uncover or shine a light of just what we needed. Did, for instance, I know that I needed Cheri in my life? I sure did after I met her. When I discovered the joy of singing and reading and writing, and doing all the things that excite my heart, then I know my life has been worth the effort.
Now, I’m not going to do things like skydiving, or deep sea diving or running super marathons, or hunting big game – or little game for that matter. Those activities are best left to the ones who will crave and enjoy them. Just give me a hunt – something to find, something to discover, something precious, and this life will all be counted as a good thing.
Be intentional about what you en-joy, or what motivates you to do and be more. The options are limitless, and I believe the treasure – however you define it – is waiting.
Saying for the Day: (This one will only make probably 10% of you very happy, but it was told to me by my seminary dean) … Everyone is born left-handed… they only turn right-handed after their first sin. Truer words….
After 43 years of ministry, Randy Cross lived his "fourth life" and shared about retirement, living boldly and intentionally in our world. To be sure, there was some North Dakota thrown in.