Heirloom

I went through an exhibit on the history of the Bible, from the Dead Sea scrolls to modern day, and my mind is full of it as I twist the next color over my hook. The display was filled with authentic artifacts, from fragments of ancient scrolls, to original Gutenberg pages, to first editions of the King James Bible, tracing a journey that succeeded against all odds. Against time, decay, martyrdom of its translators, and powerful rulers trying to limit its distribution, the Word of God prevailed. It gave me a new appreciation for the small Bible which now lies next to me so accessibly. Now, more than ever, I can say with David, “Your statutes are my heritage forever; they are the joy of my heart.” (Psalm 119:111). How I love His Word, delight in it, sing about it, remember it, and strive to keep it.

My great grandma’s afghans are well loved, but haven’t fared as well. Some still drape their warmth over furniture in the house, ragged with age, and one sits at the end of my bed awaiting mending. Maybe someday my afghan will be an heirloom to a great-grandchild, a reminder of past heritage. Though it may pass away, I pray that the prayers and faith within its yarns might endure to the next generations.

Isaiah 40:8 “The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever.”