This year I turned each page and read each word.
Old Testament and New Testament, I found such life in the discipline of reading. Throughout this year, the stories I have heard a thousand times seemed new and fresh as Silas and I learned about ancient empires in school. The chronology all fell into place for me again.
I was so sad to come to the end of the patriarchs. We had traveled miles together as Abraham's promise grew into Israel, Joseph, and a God-ordained transition to Egypt until the Exodus, a kingdom established, a kingdom exiled, and finally a people returned to re-build that which had been destroyed.
I wrestled alongside Job.
I stood in awe with Esther.
I sang with David.
I felt the yearning of the prophets.
Today I read Malachi. Malachi that marks the end of an era. An era that was left to wait.
And just in this holiday season, I sensed the reality of those years of silence.
Silence that was then broken by a God who never abandons, never forsakes, and never forgets. A God who came to turn it all around and save His people.
Ultimately, there are too many treasures to recount here. The white spaces in my Bible and my journal hold the outpourings of my heart as I have read.
I am so thankful for God's grace in this year-long process. He was gracious when I got behind and needed time to catch up. Gracious when I fell asleep with my Bible in hand. And gracious when I questioned.
I am forever grateful for this spiritual discipline this year. Surely He is coming soon.
"Amen. Come, Lord Jesus."























































