I learned to love the Scripture even before I knew what was it was. Every evening I would watch my dad go to his favorite chair. He would take out his Bible and a spiral tablet. He would place his glasses on his nose and then take a pin and make notes as he read. Day after day, week after week, I watched my dad’s diligence in the word of God. I observed as he filled spiral after spiral with nuggets from the Scripture. I kept thinking to myself, “I wonder what’s so interesting about that book”? I had been given a little black Bible at my baptismal. It had my name on it in gold and it was beautiful. The edges of the pages were red, it was my own, and I loved it. At that time in my life I couldn’t read or understand the Scripture but I loved my Bible because my daddy loved his Bible.
I always carried my Bible to church with me. Even though I couldn’t read or understand it I always had it in my hand. On Wednesday n
ights we went to prayer meeting. The pastor would get up and give a short sermon at the end of which he would ask for prayer requests. Then he would ask those that would, to come and kneel around the altar and pray. I don’t remember whether my dad suggested it or I just followed him to the altar. But week after week I would find myself kneeling at the altar where I had given my heart to Jesus. There would be times that I would open my Bible and try to read a passage or two. My head would begin to spin like there was a swarm of bees inside. I just couldn’t get it. I couldn’t understand it. Yet still I loved it. Many times I would just rest my forehead on my Bible as I knelt at the altar. I would pray for God’s word to be revealed to me. At times, in a show of affection, I would take my Bible and kiss it. Yes, I loved the Scripture and that love was imparted to me by the example of my daddy. Through the years that same love has developed an increased and, thank God, with it has come some understanding.
We never know whose life we are impacting. There have been times that I thought I could make an arbitrary decision. My attention got turned on myself. I would get hurt, or maybe offended, and my attention would turn to my own needs. At times, I would fight. Sometimes, I would want to run away. Yet, inevitably God would say to me, “so you think this is all about you, son?” God is a great one to ask rhetorical questions of us. In his love He’s always and nudged me back toward repentance.
Life’s events and circumstances are never just about us. There are those watching whose lives we influence for the kingdom of God or the ways of this world. Perhaps some little boy or girl that’s watching you today may go on to have tremendous influence in this world for Jesus because of the example you set before them. Our choices do matter. Choose wisely.
CS
