Sometimes she would fall asleep with her Bible clutched against her chest.
Or under her pillow.
It seemed to penetrate deeper this way–stayed better when she was dream-reading.
What’s a girl whose mother is gone to do?
No soft hands to hold hers at night. No soft voice to pray with.
His Word did not keep loneliness from seeping in…it came. But still, the girl held tightly, not really knowing why. Only that the Words kept her from feeling completely alone.
She carried it with her everywhere.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said older friend, tipping the book in the girl’s hands. “Is that what I think it is?”
Blushing, she hugged It tighter.
How could they understand?
The Words kept company in the reading journal that year. Mrs. Johnson put a red check mark on the top of the page at the end of the week. They could write anything they wanted–she never read the words.
But this one time, with red pen poised, hand froze in air. She turned to the girl.
“This is the Bible.” She said, in amazement.
Blushing, the girl nodded and turned away, ashamed to garner this attention.
And so it was, through the years, the Book kept her company.
She learned to make friends. She laughed and fell in love. She had children, even a dog. She learned to do the laundry with a sigh and clean the floors of the house she lives in without a thought to those early days.
Only one thing stays the same.
She never let go.
Clutches It tightly even still.
It is all that anchors her. These living, breathing Words—breathing life into her.
This post is inspired by Ann’s Walk With HIm Wednesday series. Visit Holy Experience for more…