I came upon my grandfather's Bible in Hope. My grandfather was a pastor. He was funny, a really great speaker and a man of integrity. He often told stories about the war and how his spiritual life was drying up and how God met him there in the bunker. He had a personal story or anecdote in every sermon. He loved God and my grandmother and his family and lived that out every day of his life. He wrote and translated hundreds of hymns and lived and breathed music. He really was an exemplary man of God.
So anyway. I came upon his Bible. When he passed away 17 years ago, one of the things my mom wanted to inherit was his Bible and it has found its way to the cabin in Hope. As I was looking for something, I came upon it in the drawer. It is falling apart and full of notes. It has clearly been read and studied. A LOT. This challenges me, but also makes me so grateful. I am challenged because I am not sure that my own devotional life is anywhere near what his was. Granted, he was a pastor, but still. Some of the notes are written in the margins and some have been type written, possibly for sermon notes. His old Bible fills me with gratitude, for him, and for my believing family in general. I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine about what I would change in my family. I have to say that I wouldn't change anything. I know that sounds so self righteous and obviously, my family isn't perfect. But, it is loving and close knit. More importantly, I have a heritage of faith that I wouldn't change for anything.
