It called to me from the thrift store jewelry case—a vintage pearl face watch with translucent beads and just the right Bohemian flair for my flowy outfit. It had probably belonged to someone’s grandma. For a few bucks, it would be a shame not to clasp it around my wrist.
I wore it several times as jewelry, and then I had a crazy thought. I wound it (for you young people, that’s the manual version of docking), set it, and waited. After two or three minutes, my highest hopes were confirmed. It worked. The watch actually worked!
I bought the watch because it was pretty, but I discovered that it tells time.
This made me think about the pretty Bibles I’ve collected over the years. Some leather, some embroidered, and one that even belonged to my grandma. They look nice on the shelf. They color coordinate to offer the right flair for my flowy outfits. They probably even make me look super spiritual.But I’ve found out that bibles aren’t meant to look pretty. Carrying it as an accessory didn’t work out for me. A closed bible didn’t help me be a better mom. A dusty bible didn’t get the cobwebs out of my life. A misplaced Bible didn’t help when I was lost. I know you may have questions and I’ve asked them, too. Is the Bible true? Can we trust it? What if the writers made mistakes? Why doesn’t the God of the Bible seem like He still moves or cares or sees? What in the world are we supposed to do with how men treated women?
One by one, I’ve wrestled these alligators to the ground and what I’ve come up with is that the Bible has an answer for every question asked in desperation. It really does. It has helped me …
broaden my shoulders
deepen my empathy
root out my hypocrisy
mend a fresh sorrow
relinquish a false security
forgive a sneaky lie
take a step forward
feel God’s forgiveness
And that’s just since Saturday. This book, my goodness. It’s life. I didn’t do a single one of those things in my own strength or with my own wisdom—or even because I wanted to. From cover to cover, 31,102 verses show us how to love, live, forgive and grow. They prove how far God will go to get to us. They offer hope that transcends our times. They set us on the only foundation strong enough to hold our weight. They help us heal from the wounds we thought would kill us. And they chart our course for freedom—real, feel-it-in-your-bones, that-undertow-can’t-have-me—freedom.
It works. The Bible actually works. And for a few bucks, it would be a shame not to clasp it around our lives.
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