Like Filet Mignon For the Soul

For everyone who partakes only of milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, for he is a babe. But solid food belongs to those who are of full age, that is, those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil. (Hebrews 5:13-14)

The writer of Hebrews compares the knowledge of God to milk and solid food. The basics, he refers to as milk, while deeper understanding -- that of a teacher -- he calls solid food. This is apt, and not unprecedented in Scripture. After all, David writes, in Psalm 34:8, "taste and see that the Lord is good!" 

I've pointed out before, the beauty of Scripture is that, with every reading, there is more to learn. But so often, I find it hard to discipline myself to do so. Sometimes, it even feels like a chore. Which is weird, because when I actually do take the time out to read it, it is a real and honest joy to dig in and learn more about the God who created me, saved me, and loves me. Yet there is this whispering in my ear that I don't have time today. That I'll do it when I get around to it. How spoiled I have been, that I can read the very Word of God any time I want, but find excuses to refuse! 

There are places where the Word of God must be smuggled in, and every page is lovingly pored over and savored before being passed on to the next hungry soul. But here I am. I'm like a rich man, refusing to eat his filet mignon, even as the poor around me must struggle just for every taste of milk or crumb of bread. 

God, that I would savor this meal You have placed before me! That I would understand the privilege it is to never be without Your Word, and that I would not only sup often, but then pass the plate!

Like Loaves And Fishes, But With Words

I've noticed lately that, whenever I pick up the Bible,  I read something entirely new. It isn't that I haven't read a particular passage before -- even several times before -- but that every time I re-read, I find an entirely new insight or application to my life. That there are layers upon layers to what God reveals through each individual piece of Scripture.

This shouldn't be surprising, when you think about it. Doesn't Hebrews call it The Living Word? In chapter 4, verse 12, in fact, we read, "For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart."

Our God is eternal. His wisdom is eternal. 1 Corinthians 1:25 says, "For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength."

So how arrogant was I to believe, even for a second, that I had anything like a full understanding of His word?

The truth is, where God is infinite, His very words must also be infinite. Each one of God's words must be worth so much more than our own could ever be -- and indeed when you read and re-read what He has inspired, reading under His inspiration, you can't help but see that is exactly the case. Like an onion,  you can savor His words, peeling layer after layer after layer, and finding each meaning more powerful than the last.

And, I'm growing to learn, with each new understanding can only come the desire for more. 

A Moment of Conviction

Sunday morning, in the van on the way home from church, one of my daughters asked about my Bible. I was proud to show off the Bible my parents got me, back in high school, nicely bound in its CBD-bought cover. My son piped up from the back of the van, "you have a Bible?"

"Of course I do," I said. "It's right here."

"Oh," he answered. "I've never seen you read it."

Proverbs 22:6 tells us, "Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it."

I've known that verse since I was a child, yet my seven-year-old son has never seen me reading my Bible. We've looked at Scripture together, but he's never caught me spending alone time with my Savior.  

We go to church as a family, but we never study together in the word of God. 
 
God, help me to be the Father and Disciple I need to be, so my children can be the adults You want them to be.  May that small encounter be a catalyst for change in my family, and a deeper relationship with You.