And if it had…

My Bible and journal

For the past several weeks at church, there has been a persistent announcement for everyone to bring in their “used, good” books for a sale to benefit our women’s ministry. The sale began this past Sunday, and when I left church part-way through the second service on Sunday I found an oasis of good reads in the church lobby. I was fully prepared to pass it all by (because I really, really don’t need any more books right now) until I saw that there were some children’s board books on the tables. Well, now, you know I had to stop. I handed Leah over to her daddy for a few minutes and began to browse.

I found two books I *had* to have for Leah, dropped my donation into the basket, and joined up with Scott and Leah. Leah and I headed home so she could get her nap in before playtime at the park, and Scott headed back into worship to finish his duties as sound-guy extraordinaire.

At about 12:40 or so, I was sitting in the recliner when Scott came home. In his hand he held my Bible and journal. Suddenly, I knew that something very bad could have happened…but the fact that he was holding the two precious books said that it hadn’t.

“You need to thank Josh and Diane.”

“What?” I said. “Where did I leave those?”

“On the book table. People were flipping through them, wanting to buy them. They stopped anyone from getting it and brought them to me.”

Oh. My. Goodness. My heart froze in my chest and I mentally admonished myself for my carelessness.

I had left…..and someone had almost…..and I almost lost…..forever…..and people could have read…..

I shake just thinking about it. As I tremble, though, a thought comes to me.

I wonder if it really would have been the end of the world. Yes, I would have lost the Bible Scott bought me when we were dating, and all of the notes and highlighting and memos that have been recorded there over the past 5 years. Had my journal found a new home, many, many sermon notes and scripture passages would have been available for whoever happened on them. On top of those, though, poems and prayers and journal entries that have cathartically ministered to me in some pretty dark times would have been there for someone else. Perhaps for someone who needed it. Perhaps for someone who needed those more than I ever will again.

Perhaps my words are not for me once they leave my pen. The act of writing, maybe, is for me….while the reading and reflecting are for someone else.

Perhaps. And from there, I move forward with my blog.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort. (2 Corinthians 2:3-7)