He swaggered into my office to conduct some business. It was evident that he was very drunk and I politely asked him to return when the alcohol had worn off.
Immediately, fists clenched, he jumped up and lunged toward my desk to strike me. He was shouting a verbal flood of profanity.
“What’s that?” he demanded as he pointed to my pocket Bible on the desk.
Before I could answer he snatched the precious Word from my desk. With his mind and words aflame with hatred he snarled, “I think I’ll tear this to…”
He did not finish the sentence for as he opened the Word to destroy it, his fingers touched the pages. His eyes softened as is mind slammed back to sobriety by the sudden awareness that in his hands was the warmth of God’s love—His Word—His Son Jesus Christ. The convicting power of the Holy Spirit had penetrated the gray fog in his brain.
A softened voice and sober eyes said, “You know, the Bible never hurt anyone, did it?”
He gently placed the Bible back on my desk, turned abruptly, and walked out of my office.
As I picked up the Bible the realization that this was not just a book of leather, paper and ink swept my soul. In my hands was the love, the power, the Word of God. Moments before that Word had met and conquered the challenge of hate.
Jesus Christ is the Word according to John 1:1. Christ said, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.” We are holding Life in our hands.
When the Word is transplanted from those pages into our minds and hearts it becomes the very source of our life.
Oh, let’s say with the Psalmist, “Thy Word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against Thee!”
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