by Rita Klundt

Someone broke into his car yesterday. They took a computer bag, and made a mess, but his laptop was not in the bag, and the thief didn’t get away with any cash, credit cards or anything that could be traded for real money.

Hugo is the kind of guy who would have counted it a privilege to open his wallet and hand over his ready cash to someone in need. If the thief looked hungry, Hugo would have taken them to lunch. After finding their car abused this way, the cling-to emotion for most of us would be anger, but my friend is feeling sad. He told what happened on Facebook, but there was no mention of the damage to his vehicle or the expense involved in replacing his computer bag and its contents. There was no derogatory name-calling or curses wished upon the thief.

Now, you might want to ask him if he had left his computer bag visible and tempting to the thief. He (conveniently?) didn’t say in his post, and I’ve no plans to ask. I’m sure his wife will take care of that.  He did lament the loss of some sentimental items.

I feel Hugo’s grief. Last month, my Bible was also taken, not from a car, but from a church pew. Of all things, I was on a mission trip! A big distinction can be drawn between our grieving. Although I believe my Bible to have been stolen, it may have been taken inadvertently. My Bible is more likely to be returned to me. Hugo’s Bible had been…Listen to me. I’m speaking as if his Bible is deceased. His Bible is marked up with a highlighter. Mine is full of underlining and margin notes. Both of us are missing special bookmarks that had been gifted to us, notes from a few speeches that we’d given, and other little treasures.

Neither of us anticipated this. Both of us are truly sad over the loss of something so personal and precious to us. Hugo and I have more in common than feeling sad. Somewhere, two people know they stole/took our Bibles. Our names are in there. We’ve both prayed that if the thieves don’t already realize the significance of what they’ve done, they will soon. We pray that our Bibles will be opened and read. Both Hugo and I would gladly share the private thoughts and meaning behind the words we’ve highlighted. For God to use our Bibles to bring about His will is our prayer. We trust Him to take care of His business.

God promises in Isaiah 55:11 (NLT): It is the same with my word. I send it out, and it always produces fruit. It will accomplish all I want it to, and it will prosper everywhere I send it.

I loved the thoughts Hugo added at the bottom of his Facebook post so much:

1. Things happen for a reason.
2. God can take what is meant for bad and create good.
3. Maybe I need to guard my Bible better. It is the precious WORD OF GOD.
4. Someone needed my Bible more than me. Even though I do need it a lot. “I mean—I really need it!”
5. Shayne (Hugo’s wise, but teenaged son) said, “Maybe this is a new start for you. So, refresh and highlight again.”
6. I’m already missing it.
7. Hoping it will be returned.

Hey Hugo!

Thanks for the list. I think I know what’s at the top of your Christmas list. If you can wait that long?

For another Bible saga (an amazing one), scroll down to what Kathy posted on August 23. One Bible’s Journey was written by Jane Smudrick Peacock, and her story speaks to that promise in Isaiah.