Lost

I can hardly even believe it . . . as I type this post I keep hoping I will wake up. Surely this must be some kind of a nightmare.

It all began last night. One minute she was there, and the next she was gone. We attended Bible study together, had a few laughs, shed some tears - it was really nothing out of the ordinary.

As I left the church, I had her tucked underneath my arm - safe and secure. At least I thought I did. But when I got home, my unloading was a little bit lighter than normal. Awana's books, the kid's Bibles, my purse . . . but that was the gist of it. My own precious Bible was nowhere to be found.

I spent the day re-tracing my steps. I went up and down the sanctuary, into classrooms and all around the restroom - to no avail. Clearly she must have sprouted legs and taken a walk. But why? Why would she leave me like this? Hundreds of notes, a prayer request or two tucked between her worn pages. The lessons and the comfort each one brought is gone . . . all gone.

The ironic part of all of this is that I just picked up that ol' gal a few weeks ago. I had kept her set aside for some time, as I paraded around with one of my newer versions. Finding her again was like slipping into an old comfortable pair of jeans. My Bible has truly become a friend of sorts, seeing me through the thicks and the thins.

Although I feel nauseated with the thought of not finding her, there is an inner peace that calls to my troubled mind. It isn't so much about what you can see and touch that makes an eternal difference. My weathered friend has been a companion for a lot of years, and maybe it really is time to just let her go. If there is somebody out there who needs her more than I do (although I can't imagine that), then so be it. I trust that she will be a good friend to that person too.

Every verse I've memorised, every precept that has been imparted - I have to believe that they've stuck. God's Word is alive and active, sharper than any double edged sword . . . useful for teaching rebuking and training in righteousness. It has nothing to do with the thin paper pages, and everything to do with the message printed on them. I am choosing to believe that the Holy Spirit will not allow the Word that has been planted in my heart to return void.

If you are reading this, please pray that I will find my Bible. God knows exactly where it is, in fact, He has already decided whether or not she will return. I pray, and I wait - choosing to trust in the One who penned such a poetic masterpiece.

The rest is up to Him.