I had a Bible that was a complete mess. Most of the Old Testament came out in your hands when you opened it. The pages were folded up, marked up, and full of papers, notes, and who even knows what else.
I remember a priest who was in a Bible study with me commenting, "You know they sell those, right?"
But this was my Bible. This was where God had spoken to me. This was where I had discovered Him and found a story that was not some fairy tale, but a family history that gave me a foundation and guidance for the family history that I was creating.
I finally got a new Bible and started moreanother section of my story. I never got rid of the old one. It's stored safely in the nightstand next to my bed. But now this one has its own places that are marked and folded and written on. It has some old and some new places that just fall open when you hold it.
It has the markings of a wondrous time in my journey of faith, and memories embedded in the pages that come to life with each highlighted passage. God speaks to me here. God touches me here.
And when it is time, and it hardly holds together anymore, I'll remember that they sell these things, and I think I'll be okay with a new one.