I was sitting on the living room floor watching Baby rip his train off the tracks and insert it into his mouth when I was struck by something - books. Not just any books. MY books. In front of me is a bookcase towering FULL of books of all kinds. One book caught my attention - my Bible. Actually, the number of bibles on my shelves caught my eye.
A couple weeks ago we had a guest pastor speak at church. He spoke of his days as a young man leading groups from his church to smuggle bibles into communist China. He spoke of his first trip - the fear, the anxiety, and the Grace. He spoke of the complete thankfulness of the Chinese recipents of their bibles - something they were severely lacking.
I have never suffered to get a bible. I have never faced the possibility of prison for having a bible. We have such easy access, yet we often don't read. I know I give in to the tyranny of the urgent far too often. I imagine a conversation with the Lord. "Do you know I desire only good for you even if it seems bad at the time?" "Yes, Lord." "Do you know I love you?" "Yes, Lord." "Have you read the love letter I wrote for you?" "Bits and pieces of it, Lord."
I think how I poured over love letters from my hubby, drinking up every word. How I long to do the same with God's love letter. I am so blessed to have 8 copies in my house. Now, I just need to read them!
