On the Shelf

“The old pickup out there? Oh, I backed her into the barn a long time ago. I guess it’s been about ten, twelve years ago now. She was a fine rig—I really never had any problems with her. But times were good here on the farm, and I bought two brand-new pickups that year. So the old truck was just kind of, well, forgotten.

“I’ve had people offer me money for her, but I just can’t bring myself to sell. I guess there’s still a soft spot in my heart for that rig. I keep thinking that someday I’m going to restore her to showroom condition for the wife and me to drive. I don’t know when I’ll find the time, though.

“My boys tell me it’s in the way, but I don’t want her out in the weather. So I guess she may sit there till I die.”

And in the house, up on the top shelf of a bookcase sits an old, well-worn book. Its delicate pages, carefully taped here and there, are covered with notes and underlining in pencils and pens of various colors. But despite these evidences of years of use, a layer of dust atop the book reveals how long it has been since anyone has opened it.

The one who received it and loved it as a young man is a grandfather now. He walks by the imposing bookcase every day, and once in a while his attention is strangely drawn to the one singular book among the hundreds. Something will grab him deep, down inside, and he’ll remember that it has been a long time since he opened that once-cherished volume. It has been a long time since he spoke to the Author, even though he once knew Him well. But he has learned to shrug off those feelings, and to continue on with his busy days of health and prosperity, telling himself that someday he will find time to get back to his Bible.

Or will it sit there till he dies?