Tattered

It wasn't the style of her shoes or size of her ring, or even the sincerity of her worship. It was when I sat down next to her that I saw what caught my attention.

It was her Bible.

Not only did the pages have creases and dog ears, but they long ago lost the crisp, gold shine their edges once held. The black leather covering was now worn down to it's pale grey backside, barely covering the front of this holy book which had obviously been worn from minutes and hours and days and weeks and months and years of relentless page-turning. After seeing it, I could only think one thing:

I want to know God like that.

Hungering after God as if a starving child, I want to turn the pages He's written with relentless abandon, relishing every promise inside. I want to take His word as truth and walk in it. I want to stand upon the Word of Grace, that it may be my freedom from condemnation.

I want to desire God like I desire love.

Feeling like I need it, wanting to be engulfed by it, I chase the idea of love as if it were the storybook ending written for my life. I want to desire God like I desire that storyline - that my worth would be found in my Maker as opposed to my admirer; that my strength would be to walk in His Word, that it may be written on my heart.

I want to give my life instead of owning it myself.

Take my will, and make it Thine; it shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own; it shall be Thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord, I pour at Thy feet its treasure store.
Take myself, and I will be ever, only, all for Thee.