Bible Story Book

One of my first blog posts back in early 2009 was about a Bible story book I had been given by a neighbor for a birthday in early elementary school.  I invite you to go back to that post for a bit of background on the book.

With Mother's day approaching, I was searching deep to find something about my mom to be thankful for.  It was a huge stretch, but I found something.  After being beaten for holding onto this Bible story book as a kid, I thought I had lost it for good.  Years later as an adult, I bought it back from my mom at a garage sale for $2.00.

I'm thankful that it was never actually destroyed, even though it had been taken away from me years ago.  I'm thankful in her craziness, she put it in a garage sale. 

I want to share the pictures of this tattered book and a few stories behind it.

This is the book. When I got it, the cover was bright white.  It is heavily stained from being thrown in the trash.  I remember many times of digging it out and wiping coffee grounds off the cover.  I'm sure my tears added to the stains as I held it tight while being beaten for not wanting it taken away from me.

You can see the white spots where I ripped the dirt away as I pulled the $2.00 garage sale sticker off the edge.  My only regret is not leaving it on so that it would be a reminder to me of the day I bought it back.

As you can see here and in the first photo, the lower edge is tattered and ripped.  I remember the day that happened.  I opened my closet to make sure it was still safely hidden and found a mouse gnawing on the edge.  I may not have really known why I so highly guarded this book, but I was certain it meant more to than to allow a mouse to make a nest of it.

The book is certainly old.  Published and printed in 1968 and landing in my hands in the early 1980's.  I didn't know then, but I understand now that my kind neighbor was a Christian and this was one of her many attempts to share her love of Christ with myself and my family. 

I didn't have much of an imagination as a child, but most of what I remember came when looking at this book.  I didn't know who Adam and Eve were and I certainly didn't understand the story of Noah.  What I did know was that a big boat with a bunch of animals seemed like a lot better place to be than my house.

This was the picture that I tried to recreate every year when our teachers made us draw our favorite bible story on a poster for our annual bible celebration.  I don't know about favorite story, but it was the easiest thing for this little girl with no artistic ability.  It also helped me get through those dreadful days of making posters without being made fun of.  Since I was one of the very few unchurched children, it was humiliating having to ask the teacher what a bible story was.

For a little unchurched girl who was already experiencing hell on earth at home, this picture wasn't about Abraham's obedience to God.  It looked like some guy who was going to kill a bad man and I often wondered if some man would ever do that to my dad.

This picture looked like nice angels coming to get a little kid while they were sleeping.  It's sad to think that as early as second grade, I was wishing for nice angels to come rescue me while I slept.

This was my absolute favorite of the bible story pictures.  I knew my parents didn't want me.  So, I always wished they had left me in a basket somewhere.  That way a nice lady would have found me and I could have had a mom that really wanted me.

Again, I had no idea what the story was really about.  I saw a big man who looked like he could protect me and that's all I longed for most days.

A little bit like the angels, I often wished somebody like this would come along and carry me away.

I know now this depicts God talking to Jeremiah.  Without having a clue that's what was happening, I created my own caption.  It was a much bigger, meaner person than my dad pointing at him and telling him he was bad and needed to stop hurting me.  Sad, but true. 

I had no idea that this was Jesus' birth.  What I saw was a baby that was so loved that people couldn't wait to see it.  I realize now that was true and should be true of every child.

Again, a bunch of people oogling over a baby.  I used to pretend that it was my baby picture and that's how much everyone loved me.  Goodness, I never would have thought at that age how special that baby would really be.

The way this mother held her child, it looked like she was shielding it from everything bad.  That's what I wanted for myself.  I desperately wanted a mom to hold me, protect me from the world and love me forever.

This was one of the more confusing pictures for me.  As I got a little older and could identify this person as Jesus, it led me to begin believing what my dad said.  He said God was mean and hated people.  He said God hated me because I was a bad girl.  Since I didn't know the story at the time, then this highly resembled all the times my dad had come at me with his belt.

But I found so many places where there were good things.  I often wondered what was really true.  Just pages apart, I saw the picture above and then I would see this one.  A bad person wouldn't rescue a sheep, right?  That was the perpetual confusion my dad created for me by using by curiosity about God against me.

Another place where I saw someone do something bad, but another person do something good.  I didn't understand what a good Samaritan was when I was little.  I certainly never saw enough of them in my life.  This was one of those pictures that didn't seem real to me.  I never thought anyone would ever want to help me.

This is one of the many pages that got stained inside.  This particular stain came from me.  In a fight to hold onto my book, my dad had hit my face hard enough that blood from my nose splattered everywhere.

This is another picture of what I dreamed of for myself.  A kind person who would come to my room during those couple hours while my dad was asleep and rescue me.

 

Also a confusing picture, I really believed that my dad had to be right.  This person was a bad person who was mean.  That had to be why they killed him.  That's how I thought as a kid.

Another picture I couldn't reconcile as a child when I knew this was Jesus.  I couldn't understand why if he was a bad man that was killed, then why would he be alive again.

There's no doubt that I had a very warped idea of what the pictures meant and I certainly didn't understand the stories. 

I guess I really didn't find a reason to be thankful for my mom.  I really found a reason to be thankful for God.  I found yet another reason to be thankful for what Jesus did on the cross.  I am incredibly thankful for those people who have explained some of this to me and worked so hard to correct what my dad made wrong.