A few years ago I heard a message at Red Rocks Church that immediately sent me into the creepy crawl space in my parents’ basement to search for my old Children’s Bible. Not the official, engraved, pristine King James “Baby’s First Bible” that every tiny human born into a Christian family is oddly gifted on the day of their birth or their first Easter. I was looking for the Bible that read like a storybook – the one my parents would read to me before bed when I was young.

I’m not even completely sure of what the message was about. If I were to guess, it was either a message about approaching God with the awe and wonder of a child, or possibly returning to our “First Love.” Either way, I NEEDED to find my old Bible.

I dug through all my old boxes to no avail. I found old pictures and keepsakes and clothes and toys and all the books – except the one I really wanted. Devastated, I finally gave up, assuming we had accidentally gotten rid of it.

I started searching online, raiding every Christian bookstore, and rummaging through thrift stores to find a Children’s Bible that looked familiar. Maybe an updated version that was similar. I got a little obsessive about it for a while. Obviously I found dozens of Bible storybooks on my hunt, but nothing looked quite right. The pictures were all weird and cartoony now. I couldn’t find a single book that took me back to that place of being tucked into bed, having my dad squish in next to me and wrap his arms around me and read about God’s goodness. 

I was more than a little sad about it for a lot of days.

But one day… I convinced my parents to dive into the creepy, spider-infested crawl space with me just to clean out all our (their) old junk. I was tossing stuff left and right. My dad was carefully, methodically sifting through each box to make sure we didn’t miss anything. All of a sudden, he just pulled my Bible out of a totally random box. He simply reached in, and lifted it out. “Hey, is this what you were looking for?” Then he just handed it to me. He was so nonchalant about it. No more striving to find this treasure. No more searching for a counterfeit.

I had long since given up. But my Bible was still there. I only needed my dad with me to find it and put it in my hands. Dad’s are the best like that. They can pull anything off.

That night flipping through those pages, I remembered how my dad snuggled up with me to read, and I felt like a kid again. It was like I was hearing about Noah, Abraham, Joshua, and Jesus for the first time. I was reunited with that first realization of how big God is and how incredible His miracles are. God started revealing simple truths to me where I had overcomplicated things.

I love me some brainy theology and apologetics. But sometimes we need to sit in the arms of our Heavenly Father and hear a story about His goodness and love. And sometimes we need to stop searching so hard for what we want and simply wait for our Heavenly Father to hand us what He can manifest so much easier. 

Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.

Mark 10:15

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