I’ve heard of situations where studying the Bible becomes a chore.
It feels burdensome (even though 1 John 5:3 says the commands of God are not grievous), distant, confusing.
Worst of all, you fear reading the Bible means not being real, since you’re going through the motions.
The more I walk with God, the more I realise this is a path that comes too often.
Sometimes you feel like a bad Christian.
Sometimes, you hit a wall with the disciplines.
Sometimes I give in to the latter.
But thank God for His grace. The words of Apostle Paul ring, “It is no trouble for me to write the same things to you again, and it is a safeguard for you.” (Phil. 3:1 NIV)
I have to remind myself again of the simple truth in those situations.
Truth like, “a closed Bible does not solve anything.”
Or,
“If you want to fall, fall at the cross. Not away from it.”
And those plain truths, even when our brains want something deeper, provide enough proof, not feeling, to read the Bible.
The other day, during one of the routine read-the-Bible-or-else days, I opened the next chapter of Jeremiah.
Jeremiah 43.
Before this chapter, Babylon had just taken over Israel—hint: the Israelites turned their back on God again—and Nebuchadnezzar set Gedaliah as governor over Israel.
That kind of worked out.
Some Israelites in dispersion came back, and life perked up for the Jews.
But soon after, Ishmael, son of Nethaniah, murdered Gedaliah.
The Israelites were back to square one.
No land, no protection, backs still turned on the Lord, and the desperate need for a next step.
So they went to Jeremiah.
They promised him, and almost swore that they’d obey God this time.
All they needed was a direction. Where would God have them?
By now, the Israelites wanted to go to Egypt. Egypt had food, shelter, and an alliance they could rely on.
But Jeremiah came back with news they didn’t want. God told them to remain in Judah. Oops.
They turned against Jeremiah and accused him of conspiring with the Babylonians. Pheww.
I could go into details, but you can catch the rest of what happened in Jeremiah 44.
I closed my Bible that morning, amused. Interesting story.
I picked up the lesson and went about the day.
A few days later, I was staring down a situation I didn’t want. I asked God, “What would you have me do?”
And when the answer wasn’t favourable, I acted like the Jews.
Okay, maybe I wasn’t accusing anyone of conspiring, but I played a similar script.
Fixating on a specific outcome, instead of opening my heart to receive what God would want—even if it is what I wanted.
(Sometimes, God wants what you want. But when a desire is placed so high above Him, it becomes dicey, because blessing that desire would kinda enforce idolatry. Anything that doesn’t start in surrender does not do well in the long run.)
I could go on a tangent with how powerful that lesson was, but the point is, it became easier to spot the slippery slope because I read it in scriptures.
Those little mornings, reading when I 100% didn’t want to, feeling fake, and other excuses that come up, had an impact.
God ministered through those stories.
Even if the lesson came later.
A friend once told me, “Reading the bible is like giving God more allowance to speak to you.”
She continued, “If you read Genesis 1:1 in the morning, it becomes easier to remember God as maker of the heavens and earth throughout your day.
“You create more touchpoints for conversations.”
She didn’t use those exact words, but the meaning stuck.
No matter what: in discouragement, joy, excitement, feeling distant, difficulty, questions, don’t abandon the Bible.
An open Bible promises answers.
Maybe not today, but it will surely produce fruit.
A closed Bible only drives you into the lie the enemy would like you to believe:
The lie that God’s word is not enough.
