Perelandra

One weekend (circa 1994) as I was cleaning up my room in the barracks at Grand Forks Air Force Base, I picked up a tired old not-so-well worn NIV Thompson Chain Reference English Bible and chucked it in the trash. I hadn’t opened it in years but I was carrying it around for no apparent reason. I say not-so-well-worn because some Bibles are well worn from being studied and poured over. Mine was ragged from neglect. Simple truth.

It never made it to the dumpster. Even my ever-increasing godlessness couldn’t allow that. I picked it out of the trash, put it in the drawer, and left it there.

I almost threw my Bible away. How odd is that? I shudder when I think about it. I almost threw my Bible away. Now, I could have purchased another one, easy. I could have purchased 10 or 100 more. But this one is mine. Actually now it isn’t. I did eventually buy another Bible, a nice leather-bound ESV. The NIV is now in the custody of our second child who seems to like carrying around a Bible almost as heavy as he is.

I almost threw my Bible away. I’m glad God was there to keep me from myself.