As I come to the conclusion of my Lenten promise to read only the Bible for 46 days, it feels that I should have something terribly profound to say. And I’ve been wondering for the past couple of days what that could be. I’m not a pastor, or a teacher of doctrine, only a woman of faith walking through each day as it comes.
Carol called several days ago. She’s the one who committed to read the Bible with me. She’s the one who suggested that there would be a huge blessing from it. “Well,” she said, “I guess you didn’t get a blessing after all.” This comment came from our discussion over how I’d spent the last part of Spring Break, and the subsequent two weekends, in the hospital with my mother. That I’d struggled and fussed over my father bringing her home those many miles from Naples, Florida to Naperville, Illinois.
But, it’s not true. I did have a blessing from reading only the Word. I felt Him walk with me through every difficult step. I felt His reassurance, most especially through the Psalms. I felt encouraged and strengthened as I realized I had to relinquish everything; nothing is in my control although I’d like to believe otherwise.
As I reflect over the last 45 days I find a certain beauty in the ‘sacrifice’. There was a simplified focus to my reading. A restoration to my spirit. An awareness of His presence through trial. A sense of discipline that is too easy for me to let slip by as I tend to indulge my every fancy. So there were lots of blessings, after all.
And, there’s a request for forgiveness. Yesterday, as I reread the crucifixion story, and realized all the suffering He endured, I felt ashamed of complaining. Because I miss my books more than anything. But they don’t compare to His sacrifice.
May every blessing rest on you tomorrow and the in the days to come.