Buddy’s Bible

Original post: February 9, 2020; edited

One Sunday morning, back when our family was still young and growing, we decided to visit a tiny, white building which housed a church. Originally the building was built for a few families to gather to homeschool their children. We unloaded our then five children out of the suburban and marched them into the building, little knowing that our lives would be forever changed and richly blessed by the love of an elderly preacher named Buddy.

There was just a handful of people attending at that time. Our seven people filled up a row. Everyone greeted us with handshakes and smiles. After hearing a wonderful message by Buddy we prepared to leave. Everyone shook our hands and smiled once more, suggesting, hoping that we would come back again. As I was walking out Buddy caught me in the doorway. “Can you teach? We need a teacher for the younger children.” And the rest is history.

Buddy quickly became a member of our family. He and his lovely wife lived about 35 minutes away, but he spent a tremendous amount of time at our home over the next couple of years. He studied with us. He took time with our now six children and he took time with me and my (now ex) husband. We all fell in love with Buddy.

On his way to visit us in the fall, he would stop at a farmer’s market and pick up a gallon of cider and persimmons to give us. We would sit around , drinking coffee, and talk about his life as he had so many stories to tell. A few I still remember but my busy life erased many from my mind. And that saddens me. One story I do remember was when he was in training in the military. He had to crawl under barbed wire while being shot at with live bullets. He lifted his head up slightly and a bullet hit his helmet. He laughed when he shared that story with us but I am sure it wasn’t so funny at the time.

Eventually Buddy had to retire from preaching because he was sick. Cancer. He and his wife decided to move back to Tennessee to be closer to their son and his family. We visited them while he was still able to get around. He took us on a country music star scenic bus tour in Nashville. That was fun. I still remember seeing Alan Jackson’s beautiful home from the road.

We continued to keep in touch daily by phone. He still answered our many questions (we always had so many) and gave advice when we needed it. Or, sometimes, we just chatted about nothing of importance. Finally, he just wasn’t able to do that any longer.

We got a call one day that he wasn’t doing well. We drove five hours to his home, praying all the way that he’d wait for us. He did. We sat by his bedside. I read the Bible aloud as that was home to him and where he found great comfort. The Bible was his life. We held his hands and even though we could no longer understand him verbally, his eyes reflected love. No fear. Only love.

We finally had to say our last goodbyes. That broke our hearts. I could see the sadness in him as well and that was really hard to take. He passed away a day or so later on September 21, 2004.

Sometime before he passed, Buddy and I had a conversation about bibles. I asked if I might have the bible that he opened up to us so many times. He said that I could. Once he passed, I did receive a bible but not the one I asked for. That bible went to his grandson because it had been accidentally left in the truck that was given to him by his grandad. I was selfishly upset about that.

I remember having a meltdown one day because of losing such a great friend. His passing was truly a huge loss in my life. I was alone in my room, sobbing…and as I held his old bible I was soon to discover it held a far greater gift than the one I had originally asked for.

I held that Bible close. It was then I felt something on the back cover. Curiously, I looked it over and when I realized what it was I cried even harder. For on the front and back covers were the indentations of his thumb and fingers.

My heart lifted.

Buddy would hold that Bible at his side when he stood. His thumb on the back cover and his fingers on the front. I quickly found pictures taken of him with my kids and there he was holding the Bible in just that manner.

To me, it represented how tightly he hung onto the Word of God. He never let go of it his whole life. I found such peace in this wonderful gift and I was reminded of what was truly important. It wasn’t about me and my loss. Nor was it about me not receiving the Bible I had asked for. I was greatly humbled…again.

Every once in awhile, I will press my fingers and thumb into those indentations and I am reminded to get back on track. Buddy’s love will was great, but God’s is far greater. Sometimes we need earthly reminders because we are human and tend to forget.

I thank God that He gave us Buddy during the end of his life. It would have been great to have known him for longer than a few short years, but everything is in God’s timing. He knew our family needed Buddy at that time. God also knew that we depended on Buddy so much, maybe too much, that maybe we finally needed to stand on our own. I don’t know if that was why Buddy had to leave, but there is a lesson in everything. And I am grateful for what I learned.

I felt this was an appropriate story to share again on this Sunday morning. I hope you gathered something good and uplifting from it.

♥️

Andi