Another Part of the Story

I called her "Mom Squared." She is the mother of one of my closest friends in high school, who allowed me to come home to her house after school and open the refrigerator before I greeted anyone. She bought frozen burritos specifically for her son and I to eat as after-school and late-night-studying snacks. She bought Milky Way Ice Cream bars (since discontinued) just for me. She loved me like a son.

Sometime in my early university years, when I had fallen in love with a girl who was Christian (and I was not), I went to visit Mom Squared in the city to which she had moved: Miami, Florida. I have no idea how it came up, or whether her offer resulted from my request; my memory did not record those parts in a place I can access them. But she gave me a bible. The New Jerusalem Bible, to be specific; a Roman Catholic version printed in England and, as I recall, printed with instructions not to be sold in the United States.

This bible I read cover-to-cover, Genesis 1 to Revelation 22, over the next year and a half. This paperback brick with onion-skin pages became my daily companion, Apocrypha and all. Based on my reading of this text I decided, in early 1997, that I did not believe the stuff written in it.

 On June 7, 1997, the Author of All Stories That End Well called me to faith. I became a follower of Jesus Christ, and I began to inscribe that gifted bible with thoughts, research, prayers, and songs that made a deep impression on me.

When I went to seminary in 2002, the recommended translation of the bible was the NRSV. Sara bought me a copy of that version, which has been with me since then. The Jerusalem Bible, occasionally serving as a consultant, sat on my shelf until now. It's time to say good-bye, not to the story or the One Behind It All, but to the worn-out brick that's done its duty.

Thanks, Mom Squared, for your gift. The Lord used it well!

~ emrys