A finger pointed at me and a voice yelled, “You didn’t bring me my Bible!”
As I was leaving the nursing home, a motorized wheelchair spun around in front of me, blocking the exit. Thinking the man had lost control of it, I stepped around him, but he popped a wheelie and ended up in front of me again.
“You didn’t bring me my Bible you promised!”
“I”m sorry. What’s your name?”
“Jerry. Now, where’s my Bible?”
“I’ll be glad to get you a Bible, Jerry” and extended my hand. “I’m Leon.”Someone had promised him a Bible two months ago and had not followed through.
I purchased a Bible and had his name engraved on it. My wife and I took it to him. He was in bed, his head covered with a blanket. “Jerry, I’ve got your Bible.” He threw back the covers, grabbed it, and clutched it, “My own Bible.”
“Jerry, why did you want a Bible?”
“I like the stories in it?”
“Well, then you’re a Christian?”
“Oh, no. I just love the stories.”
The next two weeks, we read and discussed the flood (his favorite) and Jonah. The third week we studied John 3. The fourth week, I asked him if he wanted to personally know the Author of all his beloved stories??
“Yes, to know ’im just like you.”
“Whoever” and that means you, Jerry, “ believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” He grasp my hand and we prayed. “So now I’m a Christian!”
“Yes, you’re born again.” He started introducing me as “his Reverend.”
Two weeks later, the Lord took him home from stomach complications.
Now Jerry is sitting at the feet of Jesus, hearing more stories he loves from their Author, the greatest Story Teller of all times.
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