Found! :D
Hello blog world... as mentioned in my last post, ages and ages ago, life is a little crazy right now. I'll claim that as my excuse for not sharing any stories in weeks. However, I simply had to carve out time and share this particular detail.
About a month ago I lost my Bible somewhere on campus, I wasn't sure where. I looked all over, in my room, my backpack, the science building, the chapel, the prayer room, my car... everywhere I could think of. I finally gave up, figuring that I could pick up another Bible from home over Thanksgiving break, and in the meantime borrow other people's. Of course now in retrospect I realize how stupid that was; I should have had my mom mail it to me.
Anyway, last Wednesday I decided to peek again in the lost-and-found at chapel, and there was my Bible, tucked beneath several other Bibles, a journal and a couple of coats! (... I was so excited that I stood up much too quickly and the hit my head with quite a loud crack on the concrete staircase underwhich the lost-and-found is located).
I knew that I was being affected by not having my Bible, but I hadn't realized how much until I got it back. Scrounging around and finding the Word from other sources is better than nothing, but it isn't the same as having it sitting on my desk or in my backpack, ready to pull out whenever a thought pops in my head, or I need some encouragement, or someone else needs encouragement, or even just when I have an extra moment of free time.
I've been thinking a lot about my brothers and sisters who don't have Bibles. I've been thinking about a house-visit we made while in Rwanda. I was sitting next to a girl I had never met before while someone (maybe Adam?) was reading a passage of scripture, and I shared my Bible with her. She didn't even speak English; I doubt she could understand a word on the page, but she could put her hands out and touch it and feel it at the very least. Afterward, we were walking to another house and she just grabbed my hand, and we were sisters. I'm quite sure that in heaven someday we'll make eye contact and recognize each other in an instant, and run and greet each other with a giant hug and a million stories of how good our God is.
I've been thinking about the way people there drank in the Word when it was read out loud to them; I've been thinking about the way it instantly bonded us as a family. I've been grieving for people who can't read or hear the Word on a daily basis, and especially for people who don't even have it in their own language. I'm not really sure where this goes or what I'm supposed to do with it or what you should do with it. Maybe we should all change our majors and become Bible translators (maybe not). The point is, God's word is great, it is powerful, it changes lives. The proof I offer is that it is changing mine.
k. rose
About a month ago I lost my Bible somewhere on campus, I wasn't sure where. I looked all over, in my room, my backpack, the science building, the chapel, the prayer room, my car... everywhere I could think of. I finally gave up, figuring that I could pick up another Bible from home over Thanksgiving break, and in the meantime borrow other people's. Of course now in retrospect I realize how stupid that was; I should have had my mom mail it to me.
Anyway, last Wednesday I decided to peek again in the lost-and-found at chapel, and there was my Bible, tucked beneath several other Bibles, a journal and a couple of coats! (... I was so excited that I stood up much too quickly and the hit my head with quite a loud crack on the concrete staircase underwhich the lost-and-found is located).
I knew that I was being affected by not having my Bible, but I hadn't realized how much until I got it back. Scrounging around and finding the Word from other sources is better than nothing, but it isn't the same as having it sitting on my desk or in my backpack, ready to pull out whenever a thought pops in my head, or I need some encouragement, or someone else needs encouragement, or even just when I have an extra moment of free time.
I've been thinking a lot about my brothers and sisters who don't have Bibles. I've been thinking about a house-visit we made while in Rwanda. I was sitting next to a girl I had never met before while someone (maybe Adam?) was reading a passage of scripture, and I shared my Bible with her. She didn't even speak English; I doubt she could understand a word on the page, but she could put her hands out and touch it and feel it at the very least. Afterward, we were walking to another house and she just grabbed my hand, and we were sisters. I'm quite sure that in heaven someday we'll make eye contact and recognize each other in an instant, and run and greet each other with a giant hug and a million stories of how good our God is.
I've been thinking about the way people there drank in the Word when it was read out loud to them; I've been thinking about the way it instantly bonded us as a family. I've been grieving for people who can't read or hear the Word on a daily basis, and especially for people who don't even have it in their own language. I'm not really sure where this goes or what I'm supposed to do with it or what you should do with it. Maybe we should all change our majors and become Bible translators (maybe not). The point is, God's word is great, it is powerful, it changes lives. The proof I offer is that it is changing mine.
k. rose
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