The Bible & Me

Yesterday, I gave a lesson on my favorite subject, the bible, to my RCIA students.  It’s the first time I share on this topic and I was really nervous because usually the whole protestant reformation leaves students quite perplex as to why Catholics have more books in our bible.  Yet, thanks to the Holy Spirit the students seemed to capture a clear understanding of our biblical history.  There were some areas in my lesson that I think I will tweak for next time, but overall I was happy with the end result… When I was a little girl getting ready for my First Communion my mom would let me borrow her bible which was this huge book with a bright red cover.  Inside, on some pages, it had beautiful pencil illustrations and I remember jumping into those drawings and participating in the action.  Normally, I would lay on my belly and stare at those bible pages for hours- I was quite the biblical scholar (smile).  I wish I could boast that after my First Communion I continued having such a curiosity and close relationship with the Word of God, but I never read the Bible again until I became an adult.

After a few weeks of dating my ex-boyfriend, as our date ended he handed me a wrapped package and asked me to open it when I got home and I was alone.  I rushed home excited to open the gift only to discover that he had gifted me (an agnostic at the time), a bible.  For the duration of our relationship I never read it, it just sat on a book shelve.  Until, the day that I rushed to the hospital behind the ambulance that carried my brother.  It was like a reflex, as I picked up my purse I grabbed the bible.  It was at the hospital that I read the bible again as an adult.  I was in a state of desperation and I asked God to please speak to me, to give me words to comfort my family.  I opened my bible and began reading the Book of Job, because that’s where my bible had fallen opened to.  I read the book during the hours that I waited for my brother to come out of surgery and every word gave me so much ointment.  I understood that suffering has a purpose. I saw my brother in Job, because Schizophrenic people suffer greatly and lose so much - even their sanity.  The story of Job validated all of our suffering and gave it meaning.  Since that day the bible has been my rock, my well of living water, my fortress.

Some of my bibles.

At the time I didn’t know that what I was reading was not a Catholic Bible, all I knew was that I couldn’t get enough of God’s word.  That first bible got me through my first years switching through various churches.  Today, I have many bibles (I sort of collect them) when I see a bible at a used book store I just can’t resist myself (smile).  My favorite is a bilingual bible that I found at a Catholic Conference.  That’s the one I currently read (though it's not the best translation) because I lead a bilingual life.  My nephew got me the coolest doggy purse to carry it in.  As, I have become more instructed in my faith I understand the importance of having proper guidance in biblical interpretation and am learning to read the bible with a solid Catholic commentary beside it.  What's your history with the Word of God?