When Little Things Are Not Little

Psalm 139:3-4 (ISV)

³ You scrutinize my life and my rest;^[a]
you are familiar with all of my ways.
⁴ Even before I have formed a word with my tongue,
you, Lord, know it completely!

 

 

I’m a huge fan of the Bible. You might find me with the pages open and my hands, palm down in the middle, trying to soak up the Living Spirit.  Or holding it against my heart, or my face, to get even closer to His presence.

I learned reverence early on from my Granny Mack. She taught: “The Bible is living, breathing, Spirit in book form.” Nothing was ever placed on top of her Bible.

When I lived with Granny in the third grade the Gideons visited our little three-room elementary school out in the country and gave each of us a small New Testament. Immediately I knew I never wanted to be without it. It meant I had the “living, breathing Spirit” with me everywhere I went. It was my shield and protector. I carried it consistently until six years later when it must have fallen out of my pocket and was lost. Oh, how I grieved that little Bible. I prayed that it was picked up by someone that needed it as much as I did.

As an adult, my mornings would include devotions and a long run before settling into my studio to paint. On those long runs, 6-10 miles a day, I would think about what I had read while my heart was joyful praising Him for all the beauty around me.

One long run was a steep uphill grade that leveled off to reveal a spectacular view of the Blue Ridge Mountains. My heart longed for that little Gideon Bible. I realized I would even let myself stop and pull that Bible out on the spot if I had it. And stopping was something I prided myself in not doing.

Eventually I realized I needed to find another little portable Bible. One that would fit in the back pocket of my running shorts, zippered for safety. The idea thrilled me!

So, (before internet) after a huge search, I found one at “People’s Drug Store.” Taking it to the cashier, I told her I needed to see if it would fit in my back pocket, and I would like her to watch so she would know I wasn’t shoplifting. Her eyes got big, and her eyebrows went up, as she mumbled, “Ooooohhh Kkkkk.”  It fit. I asked her what the cost would be with tax. “$2.32.”  I thanked her and put the Bible back. I feel sure she mumbled okay again but can’t prove it.

See, when I prayed about the little Bible I felt called to wait on God for the funds. This was between me and Him. So, I wouldn’t use money from my art sales or our household funds. The Gideons gave me the first one, I felt directed that God would surprise me with the funds for the second one.

But I’m human. I got antsy with eagerness. Each run by that beautiful mountain scene I wondered, “What if I didn’t hear God correctly? Should I just buy it? What if Peoples stops carrying them?”

I always prayed when I ran, so now I continued to ask if I was hearing Him correctly. And each time I would find peace when my heart heard, “Be still and know that I am God.” He was telling me that trusting Him this time would teach me to trust Him repeatedly. While I built running muscles, he was building a new trust muscle in me.

About three months later we decided to eat fast food, (a rare occurrence). Hubby and son ordered hamburgers. I ordered a stuffed potato. They handed a tray with burgers and drinks to my hubby. Then informed me that they would bring my potato as soon as it was ready.

By the time their burgers were almost gone, a stressed-out manager came with my order and ceremoniously put it down in front of me. “Ma’am, I am sorry for the long wait. And you might like to know, you have the distinction of getting the last potato this Hardees will ever serve. And because it took so long, I’m refunding your money.”

He placed $2.32 on my tray.