He was standing at the corner of a busy intersection just waiting to cross.
Standing there while many drove right on by—living their broken lives.
I noticed this man for one reason only.
A Bible was tucked under his arm.
An unusual sight on a corner like that one.
Unusual in our city.
And unusual in our day.
When did the only answer for a broken life become unusual?
Why is God’s Word hated? Forgotten? Left on a shelf?
She sat across from me, and I asked her if she went to church.
“No. I’m divorced and single again. I need my weekends to catch up.”
“Do you read the Bible during the week then?” I quietly asked.
Because she needs God’s Word.
We each need God’s Word.
Life's too broken to keep our Bibles closed.
“I’ve never read the whole Bible,” he admitted.
Then he grinned. “I always fall asleep.”
He had told me about his very broken life.
And God’s Word remains closed?
God spoke and galaxies were set in motion, birds flew, and a man breathed his first breath.
And “how small a whisper we hear of Him!” (Job 26:14)
The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.
The Word spoke words from a cross, and redeeming words have transformed millions of lives.
God’s words are written down.
Words that heal.
Words that save.
And our Bibles remain closed.
We’re too busy; too tired.
We drive on by, and miss the man on the corner with a Bible tucked under his arm.
A Bible read.
A Bible used.
A Bible opened and consumed is the only answer for a broken life.
"Your words were found, and I ate them,
And Your word was to me the joy and rejoicing of my heart." (Jer. 15:16)