I've said it a couple of times and I might say it a few more:

There have been times in my life when the two pennies I had to my name were so precious, so dear, that I had their shape and texture memorized. I could name the date they were minted and describe the color of the coppery green. In my poverty those pennies were my crowning glory.

Then there are seasons, which I haven't yet experienced, but know must exist, where riches are in abundance. Sitting in a chest full of nondescript gold--where every edge fades into another edge, every link is joined to a coin and every coin is touched by a crown. So much richness, so much treasure, so much stuff, that there are no words to describe it all. Just sit and bask.

If you can forgive the references to monetary surplus and put this in spiritual terms--this is how I think of my life right now.

There have been seasons of spiritual depletion, where the smallest nugget from the longest sermon is held tightly in my fist. Seasons where I ruminate on the same passage of scripture for months and months, so determined to glean something somewhere. There have been seasons where I have held my two cents worth of spiritual food on my plate refusing to fully eat for fear that it would be my last.

And then there is now: A season where every sermon, every class, every conversation, even the hard ones, even those which force me to give up, turn around, grow up, or stare down, is richness in abundance. I've been asked so many times recently what the Lord is teaching me and the answer is this, really:

I don't know. I can't put it into words. The gold has shone too brightly to differentiate between small lessons and great ones, between small worth and great worth. It has set too heavily in the chest of my mind and heart to lift out for casual observance. It stores up for me heavenly treasures, the sort that even I can't name or quantify.

All I know is that suddenly, in the face of monetary poverty, I'm basking in richness.