My Momma’s Bible
Of all the things my momma left me last year after she passed, her Bible is my biggest treasure. I know she held it with her hands, read it with her eyes, prayed the words it contains, and spoke to her Heavenly Father over it as she prayed for me.
It contains her handwriting in the margins and on little pieces of paper that occasionally fall out. I love her handwriting—it’s something that only belonged to her that she passed onto me. Her Bible makes me feel close to her. This is where I see what she was reading and how God spoke to her. I love having something in my hands that connected her to her Savior. Her faith and ministry are her legacy to me. I wouldn’t know my Heavenly Father if she hadn’t taught me about him.
Every chapter is highlighted, then highlighted again in another color. Then certain verses are underlined in purple, and others in pink multiple times. She highlighted the chapter introductions and side notes by the author. Even Obadiah and Nahum have their fair share of markings by pencils and highlighters.
There is a scrap of paper that fell out recently penned in her handwriting that reads as follows:
The world has far more people who are ready to receive the Good News than there are people willing and ready to share it. There are people who need to hear your story. You don’t have to be a biblical genius. You can simply tell what happened to you. That is the most powerful kind of story. You can say, “I don’t know where the verses are, but this is what happened to me.”
She ends the paragraph with Matthew 5:14-15: You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on a stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.
I don’t know if these words are hers or someone else’s. But she felt the message was important enough to write down and keep in her Bible. It’s a simple way for everyone to share the Gospel.
I’m grateful I have this book that was her most important possession—something I can hold and be near to and pass on to other family members. I haven’t opened her Bible app once. This big, weighty Bible is what brings me comfort right now.
May we all leave a Christ-like legacy to our families. Thank you, Momma, for your legacy to me. I’ll love you forever.
Your grateful daughter.