Yesterday, before we left for church, I placed my Bible on the corner of our flat bannister. I also carefully balanced my diet DP on the railing, while I put on my jacket. Actually, the top of my Bible would have made a perfect drink tray, but I wouldn’t dare do that.
A few seconds later, my wife made her way down the stairs, and the vibrations from her (gentle) footfalls caused the DP bottle to fall off of the bannister and roll across the floor. In that moment, I was strangely reminded of something that happened long ago …
Dad was holding a gospel meeting somewhere, and the two of us were staying at a local motel. I was maybe 8 years old or so.And I think about it all now—especially in light of recent events in Afghanistan—and I wonder … Does God really care how we treat his written word?
After the church service one night, Dad and I stopped by the “Coke” machine for a can of Dr. Pepper. (This was pretty much our every-evening ritual.) Cold DPs in hand, we returned to our room. Since my hand was starting to “freeze,” I quickly placed my can on top of a nearby Bible. (I had been instructed at home, SEVERAL TIMES, not to put my drinks directly on top of any piece of furniture.)
Dad looked at me … sternly … and said, “Get it off. That’s not treating God’s word with respect.”
And that was the last time I set a beverage on the Bible.