Today while reading some Scriptures in services, I thought about the first time I had a Bible.  My grandmother had a Bible that belonged to her, and though they were never affiliated with religion at all, she kept a Bible in a box in her living room.  As a very little girl, when we would visit her, I would reach for that Bible, and though I couldn’t read, I would look at the pictures of foreign lands.  There was a picture of Jesus (man’s painting of Him) and I used to look at that picture closely.  He was standing at a door knocking, and it was not until I was older that I learned that there was no handle on the outside, but the inside.  It’s a famous painting, and the handle on the inside meant that the occupant had to open the door (his heart) to let Him in.

“Behold, I stand at the door, and knock:  if any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me.   Revelation 3:20

My parents never had a Bible, which explains so much of what happened to my family.  No direction, no understanding, no Guidance, no morals, no foundation.

I don’t remember ever taking my grandmother’s Bible with me when my parent’s came and took us away, but I must have thought it important for it went with me to their house in another state, and followed me to two foster homes, and into an adoptive home.  I remember the first day I arrived in my second foster home.  I sat down in the floor, in tears, and looked at that Bible, seeking comfort, help.  My heart was so broken that day.  I remember it well.  That Bible followed me to my adoptive home, but one day it went missing, and though I never asked where it was, I searched the church building, and car, my room and never found it, but I believe I know what happened.  My adoptive parents did not want any ties left to my past, even the spelling of my name was changed, where I was born, and that Bible was all that I had left that tied me to my former life.  As though they could erase memories.  I’ve thought about that Bible many times.  It was not an expensive Bible, but it meant all to me.  I loved my grandmother.  My heart was broken once more when I couldn’t find it, but no one ever knew.  I kept my feelings to myself.  At that time in my life it was all that I had left to hold on to.  Stability.

“Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.”   Psalms 119:105

I bought a new Bible last year.  KJV of course.  I love the language of the King James Version.  That was the version my grandmother had.  This is my fourth Bible.  All were worn out.  I keep a Bible by my bed, in the car (just in case of a Bible study) and one by my computer.

I teach my Bible study students that we are reading the mind of God when we read His Word and encourage these 2-5th graders to study their Bibles on a daily basis.  They know the steps to becoming a Christian, and explained it to me this morning.  They know the five acts of worship, and when they have troubles at school, I always ask them.  “Where do we go to find the answers to life’s problems?”  They point to God’s Word.  They know, even at a young age, that there is more to life than what we see.  God’s Word is our Guide Book, and a comfort to us in this life, filled with instruction in the ways or righteousness, the pattern of His church, instruction in all Godliness, great wisdom in its pages, and leads us home to Him.

“Thy Word is true from the beginning:  and every one of Thy righteous judgments endureth for ever.”   Psalms 119:160

” . . .Truth, whose mother is history, who is rival of time, depository of deeds, witness of the past, example and lesson to the present, and warning to the future.”

Eileen Light