I feel like I go around saving everyone else’s belongings from rain, trashcans, thieves, puppies, lawn mowers, and black holes. I feel like a large portion of what I do here in the home is protect my people’s hearts, and things and treasures.
And so won’t you know the one time I leave my own beloved stack of books outside I lose them.
While cleaning off the deck table last night after dinner I got distracted, and I didn’t realize that rain was imminent.
My personal study Bible, my sermon Bible, my teaching Bible, a favorite book, my agenda notebook, my calendar, and my journal were drenched all around the edges and seams when I brought them inside, sobbing.
(Yes I cry over warped, ruined books. So.)
All those words I’d scribbled down in the margins of my Bible, and all those prayers and cries and worries I had written out in my journal about Carrie, and family, and health, and faith, and all those games, and events, and meetings I had written down in those lined squares – they’re all smeared and rippled and ravaged now.
I went to bed sad about it. Woke up that way too.
As I sat the kids down for breakfast this morning, I went to reach for my Bible and remembered that it was no longer in service to us, so I grabbed The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd Jones, the one I used to read from quite a bit when I homeschooled.
I flipped to the page entitled The Sun Stops Shining.
And right in the middle of the Good Friday story this is how the words read…
Jesus could have just climbed down. Actually, he could have just said a word and made it all stop. Like when he healed that little girl. And stilled the storm. And fed 5,000 people.
But Jesus stayed.
You see, they didn’t understand. It wasn’t the nails that kept Jesus there. It was love.
And suddenly I didn’t miss my English Standard Version.
I was happy with this one. My kids wouldn’t have remembered what verse went where and what book I was reading from anyhow. But they will remember the story and the words used to describe it, and they will remember the way it made them feel, and they will remember the picture they got in their mind’s eye from the above description, and so I’m glad that story version was still laying in my basket, dry and ready.
Sometimes it is the simple, pulled back, elementary things that offer us the most growth and healing.
I pray this Good Friday here is chocked full of notions, and visions, and interactions, and conversations, and revelations that help us to just really get God.
His grace. His gift. His goodness.
Yes and amen, do it Lord.
I’m about to clean our master bathroom, put the clothes in the washer into the dryer, take the dog for a restroom break, and head to the bookstore to buy a Bible and a book or two.
I don’t hate that last part there.
Love and hugs and hope, lots of hope to you all today.