The Word made flesh

This afternoon a young woman knocked at my door. She was looking for some bus tickets so she could go to the doctors. I gave her a few bus tickets. I get requests like this maybe 10 times a day. We sit at the intersection of a major bus line and have the reputation of offering assistance to those in need.

She smiled and said thank you. The mother never spoke. The mother stood about 20 feet from my office door near the exit almost as if she was ready to sprint back out of the office. I went to the front of our office to see where everyone was. I came back towards my office and the young woman and her mother were there at the table in our office where we display pamphlets about the denomination, our church, and the organizations we support. The young woman was looking through the pamphlets.

I caught eyes with the young woman and she offered up, “I just like to read.” I said, “I love to read also.” I then asked her if she wanted some magazines or something better to read then the pamphlets. She shook her head and said, “yes.”

I started back to my office thinking about what books or magazines I had in my office to offer to her. She said, “Do you have a Bible I could have?”

I’ll check.

I went to my office and rummaged around my office for a Bible to give to her. I found a NRVS Study Bible I could give to her. I walked back to the gathering area and offered her the Bible. Her eyes got wide as I placed this large volume in her hands.

Have you ever read a study Bible?

No, I haven’t.

This Bible has notes at the bottom that help you understand the context the words are written in and why the translator chose the words they did when writing in English.

There was a puzzled look on her face.

She asked, “The Bible wasn’t written in English?”

“No”, I said. The Bible was written in Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic. When it was translated into English the average reader looses a bit of the story cause they do not get to read it in the original context.

Her eyes opened up and she lovingly placed the Bible in her sack. She thanked me for the book and walked out of the door.

I looked out the window and watched them enter the rain and saw as the young woman excitedly signed to her mother what had happened. The mother looked back and saw me looking out of the window and signed, “thank you.”
I am humbled this day that I got to be a part of this event. It is moments like this that I am thankful and reminded of the call that God has placed upon my life. What an a-hole I can be at times. I write this with a sadness in my heart that I can’t be that vessel all the times and when I do get to be the vessel I am to filled with pride to fully embrace the face of the Christ in the beautiful people God places in my life, if even only for a moment.

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