A boy and a Bible

The small Bible fits in the palm of my hand.  The small gold flame stamped on the lower right hand corner declares that it is one of billions of Gideon New Testaments.  All over the world they can be found stuffed in motel bedside tables, lying in hospital waiting rooms and sometimes even in a bus stop. Tiny preschool fingers sticky from candy smear cherry lollipop stains on the pages as wee ones search for John 3:16 in their Sunday school class. Two tiny pink Gideon bibles are tucked away in the place where special things like newborn hats and wisps of baby hair are kept. They symbolize the days me and The Mister gave those two babies to God.

Tonight I look at the tiny brown bible in my hands and turn it over and over.  I received it today at a funeral of all places.  I t was held for a blond haired boy who some would say left this life too early. But is there such a thing as too early or too late in God’s view?

The father of the blond haired boy asked us not to forget his son.  He asked us to reach out to those who are hurting.  he reminds us that so many are hurting and so few are willing to help.  He gives away the small brown Bibles to remind us to share The Source of All Hope with the hurting.

The hurting don’t announce they are in pain, you will have to care enough to ask. They will not want your advice or your take on God’s plan for your life. They don’t need sympathy or pity. They are not interested in you fixing them as if they are a project. They just want to talk…..or laugh……or cry.

Dad of the blond haired boy, I won’t forget what you said today or your blond haired boy.  I will put this little brown bible where I can look at it everyday.  I promise you, dad of the blond haired boy that when I look at the Bible I will stop and ask God to show me the hurting person He places beside me so I can care for them.  I know God will do that because nothing is ever wasted, nothing is ever too late or too early in His plans.

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