It’s the end of the day, and I sit holding my Bible – shabby cover that needs the spine taped, rough corners, and ragged edge. Any minute now, I’ll open to find its time-tested gems of wisdom. Others do better at caring for the book itself. What an admirable talent! They use it every day, absorb the messages, and keep the same Bible for fifty years. Mine barely make ten. The old ones are in the house somewhere. Still, it’s a comfortable feeling to have the current one come open to the same pages. Again and again, those old stories provoke and inspire new thoughts.
Just like unfinished books sitting on the shelves, unresolved problems are sitting in my mind. It’s fitting that a storm is coming. There! Lightning struck through the darkness and I can see the large, granite boulder beside the lane. I need the light. That’s why I will never do what King Jehoiakim did—cut a scroll containing the Lord’s words and throw it into a fire. Afterwards, though, Jeremiah wrote them again. His Word cannot be destroyed.
At the first of his gospel John said, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Those enlightening words precede the reassuring and revealed promise—Jesus, the Rock, the Word made flesh, was crucified and rose again. Like lightning coming from the east, we will see Him again.
So with hope, prayer and expectation, I reach for the lamp beside my chair and turn it on.
Lord, may Your word be a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.
© V. Colclasure 2014