The Treasures Found on Our Diamond Dig

by Sally Matheny

The Treasures Found on Our Diamond Dig

(Photos by Sally Matheny)

When I first heard of the Crater of Diamonds State Park in Arkansas, I knew our family had to go. We are all into watching television shows of folks mining and digging for buried treasures. 

We have panned for gold before since it’s part of our region’s history.

Although today, gold is like an elusive family member in these parts. Diamonds are like aliens from another planet.

Maybe they’re not as rare as aliens, but the last diamond found remotely close to where we live was in Kings Mountain, North Carolina. And that was in 1893!

So we headed to Murfreesboro, Arkansas where thousands of diamonds have been discovered. Let me tell you about about the treasures we found on our diamond dig!

In route, we discussed what we would name our diamond, should we find one, because that is what you really get to do. It's officially recorded in the books.

Of course, my boy was coming up with crazy names while I was thinking how much of the gospel I could fit into a name. Don’t laugh! There has been a 2.93-carat “God’s Blessing,” a 5.16-carat “God’s Glory” (found after only ten minutes of searching!), and a 2.85-carat “God’s Jewel” which later sold for $20,000.

So, if the Lord blessed me with a diamond, you bet I was going to fit Jesus in there somewhere. 

Once we arrived, we paid $10.00 each to enter the world’s only “Keep What You Find” diamond site.

Our enthusiasm to “get rich quick” pushed us quickly through the informational section of the center. I tried to catch a few glimpses of an instructional video while the guys went to retrieve mining equipment. 

On average, one to two diamonds a day are discovered at the crater, so we wanted to get started and find one before anyone else. Oh, my, that does sound a bit greedy, doesn't it?

It's all fun in the sun until Mom gets hot and hangry.

Once on the field, my family’s search techniques varied. My husband picked a spot smackdab in the middle of the thirty-eight acres of plowed volcanic dirt and sat down to sift one bit at a time.

My son found a shady spot on the edge and I began walking. One of those quick glances at the instructional video mentioned something about just walking around looking for something shiny. I can’t stay in one place long, so I set out to meander through the plowed rows. 

My plan was for us to search from 8 -12:00, take a break and eat a picnic lunch, and then search again from 1:00 – 3:00. 

Even though we began early in the morning, the June day heated up quickly. We were glad we brought water. We carried it and the little shovel and hoe we brought from home in a white five-gallon bucket we purchased at the park. 

So, from time to time, we’d all gather at our white bucket of supplies, drink water and show our recent finds.

Are we searching wisely?

Our pockets quickly filled with rocks we thought looked unusual enough to hold onto. Perhaps they contained a valuable gem of some sort. 

While we knew most of the diamonds found are smaller than a pencil eraser, we also knew a 16.37-carat diamond had been found there in 1975, so if rocks were shiny, we shoved them in our pockets. We also crammed in a few just for their unusual green and red colors.

After searching for what seemed forever, I finally found my husband and told him I thought we must have worked through lunch and probably needed to stop and go eat. I’m one of those you don’t want to get “hangry.” 

I thought surely it was well past 2:00 when I asked my husband for the time. To my surprise, I learned all the toil and sweat occurred in only three hours. It was only 11:30! I was so hot, tired, and almost hangry. 

I wasn’t the only one. The guys said they’d had enough. What? But we have not found a diamond! I suggested we at least go to the sluicing station and rinse off our rocks so the park ranger could identify if we had any treasures.

And that’s when the truth hit us like a boulder. 

We had not bothered to take time to listen thoroughly for instructions. Sweaty with exhaustion, we noticed people with more patience and experience working in the cool water.

They had carried dirt in their buckets to the station. The same kind of bucket in which we had only carried bottles of water and other things for our comfort.

They were sifting handfuls of dirt and TINY rocks, not at all like the ones bulging like tumors in our pockets.

After sifting in the water, their trays of dirt were lifted out, and quickly flipped over on a wooden board. Then, carefully, bit by bit, they studied meticulously, sometimes with the end of a knife, in search of anything reflective. The deceiving mica was flicked out and the search continued.

I sensed the seasoned miner in the safari hat trying to suppress a grin as he saw our empty bucket and bulging pockets.

Trying to save face, I announced, a bit loudly, to my son, to “go ahead and wash your SOUVENIR rocks.”

Yes. Yes, I did. 

And no, no my son would not do it.

My sweet hubby handled the situation differently. He said, “I’m going to go get a bucket of dirt.”

I sat in the shade, too embarrassed to pull the clunky rocks out of my pockets. I watched my husband dump his out in front of the pros. He washed them off and set them aside. 

Then, he watched the others and tried his hand at sifting. After a while, we called it a day and went on a picnic.

After I suppressed my hanger with food, we laughed about our experience.  The park ranger had kindly identified our pretty souvenir rocks. The "treasures" we found on our diamond dig were not what we had expected.

Trusting God Through a Miscarriage (Part 1 of 2)

by Sally Matheny

Trusting God Through a Miscarriage
(photo by Pixabay)

October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.  In remembrance of that, I want to share with you a portion of my own miscarriage journey. Perhaps you can relate. Hopefully, you'll be encouraged.
Not even the startling, cold lubricant squeezed onto my belly could stifle my excited chatter.

I was on the verge of being the first one to hear a great secret—the gender of our third baby!

Earlier that day, I had taken our seven-and nine-year old daughters to a sitter. They wanted to go with me for my 12-week check up. I told them the following month’s appointment would be an ultrasound. I assured them they could go with me, and their daddy, to see the baby growing inside my tummy then.

Now, here I was, by myself about to hear the big reveal earlier than expected. Finding it difficult to locate the tiny baby with his stethoscope, the doctor asked how I felt about an ultrasound to see if I was as far along as we thought.

I happily agreed but told him he’d have to do another one next month because I’d promised my girls. Plus, my husband was out of town on business, so there was no way he could get there in time to see today’s ultrasound.

So, I felt rather special since I was about to receive some exciting news before everyone else. What a nice gift after enduring three months of nausea!

“If I’m not as far along as we expected, will you still be able to tell if it’s a boy or girl?” I asked.

“Maybe. We’ll see,” the tech said as she slid the probe around.

A few seconds later, she added, “There’s the baby.”

“Awww, it looks like it’s waving,” I said, noticing five, distinct, widespread fingers held in front of a profiled head and nose.

My heart pounded, waiting for her to tell me the big news. Boy? Or girl?

A few more swipes. She announces on her way out the door, “Okay. The doctor will be in to see you in just a minute.” 

Odd. Maybe the tech isn’t allowed to say anything and has to wait for the doctor.

A few minutes later, the doctor comes in and repeats the same movements over my belly. It’s awfully quiet in the room until the doctor grunts a low, short, “hmm.”

I feel my enthusiasm fade in the dimly lit room. Something isn’t right.

Look at Life From a Different Angle

     by Sally Matheny

Problems from a Different Angle

      Recent problems have forced me to look at life from a different angle. For two weeks, we dealt with water issues from burst pipes in our attic. Every time we thought the problem was fixed, another leak would appear. To top it off, the glue for the CPVC pipe fell on my husband’s favorite flashlight. He liked the light because it could rotate 180 degrees. Now it only shines at a rigid, 90 degrees.  He was not happy.
 

     Neither was I. Due to the water damage, we had clothes and boxes piled in every place except where they belonged. Throughout the first week of chaos, although greatly fatigued, I still managed smiles and laughter. By the second week, my exhaustion accompanied snarls and foaming at the mouth. Clouds of discouragement were accumulating so I talked to God. That’s when He impressed upon me I needed to look at the problem from a different angle.

     “Lord, what are you teaching me here? Why all the delays?”

     There’s more work to do.

     “Yes, yes, Lord, I know. We’ve got to buy more couplings and pipe. Flooring needs to be replaced.”

     There’s more work to do.

    "What do You mean? Do I need to go through all the closet stuff again? I’ve purged and donated three boxes already but, okay.”

     Rummaging through my closet’s contents, I pulled out my scruffy, gray bedroom slippers. Years of wear had made them quite comfy.  Even my children would slip them on and wear them around the house—which is probably how they became stained. They were beyond help. Reluctantly, I tossed them in the trash.

     There’s one dress I’d held onto for three years and had only worn once. It looked elegant on the store mannequin. My usual frugal shopping took a back seat as I splurged a little and bought the dress. However, it didn’t look as chic on me as it did on the size 2 mannequin. Even so, I held onto it for years, thinking that one day it might.  It never did. Years later I still had a hard time parting with something I had invested so much money and time—time just waiting for things to change. With a huff, I packed it in a box to give away.

     After purging through more clothes, I noticed the box containing all my handbags. I’m not really into shoes and handbags. The basics are fine with me. However, a long time ago, someone gave me a huge crocodile handbag. Its swamp green color appealed to me and I carried it around for a while. But it was just too big. I would dig and dig, never finding what I was looking for inside. Plus, it weighed a ton—even when it was empty! The crocodile purse was set free to find a new home elsewhere.

     Glancing around the room, I noticed I had weeded out quite a bit more stuff. That’s when I realized what God might have been telling me.

Children Absorbing Our Stains of Sin
Photo by flickr

     Maybe God was impressing upon me to let go of old habits to which I’d become accustomed. I had grown comfortable scuffing around in subtle bitterness or in an attitude of complacency. Even worse, my children were trying on my attitudes and absorbing my stains of sin.

   How many times have I ignored the Holy Spirit’s prodding that something was not right? Grudgingly, I held onto ideas of the way I thought things should be. Investing so much time waiting for things to change to suit my tastes, I was disappointed when they did not.  Never considering perhaps the change should occur in me.

     How many heavy burdens have I tried to carry alone? Sometimes unnecessarily taking on ones that were not meant for me. Often looking for help, but not finding it, because I was looking in the wrong places.  I should have known to stick with the basics—the loving Truth of God.

     Only God can transform the heart but I have to do my part and allow Him to do the work. He desperately wants to clear out all the scum and stains in my life. He gently whispers, “This is not My plan for you. Give me all your expectations. Hand over everything, so there will be room for My plan, which is perfectly beautiful for you.”

     Wow. God’s love is powerful. It’s better than hiring a housekeeper, a closet designer, and a garbage collector. He offers his cleansing love freely for those who ask. He is the only one who has the best angle—a 360.

     Got a problem? Try looking at it from a from a different angle. If that doesn’t help, just trust the Master. His love encircles you and He’s got you covered.

Trust God's Angle
Photo by flickr