A couple of years ago I did a Bible study for my son. I wanted him to know, who he was in Christ. I wanted him to know, even with his illness, he was still loved, and he had a purpose, and at any time he doubted that, he could take this Bible and flip to anywhere in it, and whatever was underlined, was how God felt about him.
I wanted to know too. Sometimes life isn’t fair and his illness sure doesn’t make any sense to me. How does my son and this illness fit into God’s plan?
So, I did it. Anytime the Bible expressed God’s thoughts and feelings for His creation he made in His image, I underlined it, all of it. I started in Genesis and ended in Revelation. It took me about a year. I also believe it was probably our most brutal one.
When the time came for me to give it to him, I found myself struggling and asking myself, why is this so hard to give away?
It touched me to see God’s love for my child. He really does love him more than I ever could, could even fathom, really. It brought me comfort crying out in prayer for God to heal my son, to ease his pain, to calm his spirit.
It got me through a lot of rough days…and nights. I felt his presence. I didn’t want it to go away.
So, I had this really awesome idea! I’d buy another Bible and I’d re-underline all the scriptures I had already underlined. I’d keep the first Bible and give him the second one. No problem.
However, there was a problem. It wasn’t the same. This bible had no …nothing. It felt different. At first I didn’t understand why, but then it was revealed to me.
This first Bible, the one I spoke to, cried on, prayed over, that one knew my son and I. It celebrated with us during our victories. It lamented with us during our sorrow. It got angry. It rejoiced. It understood our trials. It comforted our fears. It praised God every time the storm had passed. It, my son’s Bible, came alive. I swear I’ve seen it breathe.
The second bible, was just a bible. It was just a book with pages and words. It hadn’t experienced anything. It had no feelings, not that it couldn’t, it just didn’t. It needed to be read, not skimmed, not browsed through, not flipped from page to page. That’s not how a Bible comes alive.
It comes to life by transforming its words from its paper unto one’s heart. It is there where it comes to life. It is there where the power within is revealed. It is there where we find strength, and understanding. It is there where we are comforted and find peace. It is there where we are taught, “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness.” 2 Timothy 3:16
I decided to give my son his Bible, the living one, the one that was God-breathed. I pray it means as much to him, as it does to me, even if it takes him a few years to understand.
So, before I end, before you go on about your day, I’d like to leave you with one thought…or maybe a challenge. Does your Bible breathe?
Read it! I promise you it will.