Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path. Psalm 119:105
That has a comfy sort of feel to it, doesn’t it? Think slippers. Favorite baseball hat. College sweatshirt.
I had that feeling this morning as I opened my poor, old…I mean broken in bible. I had bought a smaller, newer one last year to travel with, because my long-time friend is getting pretty…broken in.
The print isn’t too small. It seems to just willingly open to where I want to go. Psalm 119? All I have to do is spot the right place to crack it open, and I’m pretty close. The same with almost any other part of it.
Between my broken in bible, which dates back before 1980, and the verse above I have a picture in my mind of a traveler at night, walking through a forest with a hooded cape. He holds an old-style lantern in front of him by the looped handle on top. There is darkness all around, but the lamp gives enough light to keep him from stumbling over anything in his path. Together, they are a like a gliding snow globe, floating through the night.
The past is dark behind him as memories shift, alter; maybe even disappear. The future is even darker. He can anticipate when he sees the path start to bend as the light feathers it into view. He cannot know whether there is a fallen tree, a washout, or smooth track ahead, but continues in the light he has.
I’m getting broken in also. The bible verses come to mind easier than in previous years, even if I have trouble finding them in my paged friend. God’s lessons, both Biblical and practical, continue to soften the rough edges, loosen the stiffness of habit and pride, making me more and more of what He had intended for me since Adam and Eve. Whether I always like it or not.
Getting broken in works both ways when it comes to a good bible and its owner.