A Dozen Bibles and Still Went Hungry
Dusty Bibles
For the past year my youngest son has worn the song “Dusty Bibles” like armor; his baseball walk-up anthem and favorite shower hymn. The opening lyrics are engrained into my brain and I, too, catch myself singing them often. If you’ve never heard it, it’s a must listen. It goes like this:
“We got dust on our Bibles, brand new iPhones, and wonder why we feel this way…” (Yes, I’m singing as I type)
It’s a good song: catchy beat, grin-inducing chorus, the kind that makes you nod and sing along. I’m always proud of him for making a good song choice.
But…here’s the thing…
I never took the words seriously. They sounded true enough, but they were background noise and represented just one more clever observation about our distracted lives. Even with the lyrics resounding in head, my hand still reached more readily for my iPhone than for a Bible.
Following a recent baseball tournament and still with that song repeating in my head, I decided to count the “dusty” Bibles in my house. About a dozen, I found. Some gifts, some purchases, some inherited. King James, NIV, NKJV children’s editions, study Bibles, and chronological renditions. In fact, if you were to visit our home you’ll notice that few rooms are entered without one within reach. Two sit on my bedside table, less than one foot from where I lay my head. Yet dust had settled on them, a pale testimony of neglect.
Then it dawned on me, being close in proximity to something doesn't mean being changed by it. You see, those Bibles weren't far away. They were remarkably close. Close enough to reach without getting out of bed. Close enough that I could have picked one up almost without thinking.
Just like the song that didn’t transform me, I have had the Word within arm’s reach and still have lived at arm’s length from the God who gave it.
I have owned Scripture without allowing Scripture to own me. I have known the stories, recognize the verses, hear the words week after week and until lately, have still remained the same woman.
The Bible exposes what I’ve tried to hide. It brings things into the light that I would rather leave alone. It guides me when I don’t know which way to go. It corrects me when I’m wandering. It comforts me when I’m hurting. It gives me wisdom when I don’t have the answers. It reminds me who God is and, in the process, reminds me who I am.
And even when I’ve messed up again (yes, there have been moments of weakness during this healing journey), the Word was still there. It didn't shame me. It pointed me back. It reminded me that I could come to God again. There was grace for me there.
This Book doesn’t just give me information. It changes me.
But only if I open it…
And that brings me to something Jesus said that I have heard a hundred times but am beginning to hear differently:
“I AM THE BREAD OF LIFE " -John 6:35
Bread of Life
We hear about “bread” throughout Scripture. Bread in Exodus. Bread in John. Jesus feeding the five thousand. So many places where bread becomes more than bread. It becomes provision. Sustenance. Enough.
Bread isn't meant to sit on the counter. It's meant to be eaten.
And Jesus isn't offering Himself merely as something to admire, keep nearby, or occasionally think about. He offers Himself as the Bread of Life. He offers Himself as the One we need to partake of. And how do we partake? Through the Holy Spirit and through the written Word of God.
We come hungry, and God feeds us. We come empty, and He fills us. We come needing wisdom, correction, comfort, conviction, and life, and somehow, through His Spirit and His Word, we find what our souls have been starving for. That bread is transformational. It doesn't simply sit beside us. It gets into us. It nourishes us from the inside out. Every.single.day.
And maybe that's the difference I've been missing. A Bible sitting on my nightstand isn't nourishment. A Bible opened, read, wrestled with, prayed over, and lived out-that is something different. There is a difference between being close to the Bread and actually eating it. Between owning the Book and being changed by it. Between having God's Word within reach and allowing God's Word to reach into me.
A Personal Note
My grandfather, “Papaw,” spent his final years in a lovely retirement home. He was an amazing man. He loved his family, and he loved his “Ashley Lee.” Though he missed his hometown and the people in it dearly, one of the few things I ever heard him complain about was the food served at his new place. It wasn’t the hearty “soul food” he had eaten his whole life. And whenever he would do his tiny share of “whimpering,” about the saltless vittles, he would often reference the Israelites and the manna God provided from heaven. I think what Papaw was really saying was this: It may get old day after day, but it is enough.
Ironically, I’ve been studying Exodus for the past couple of weeks and have found myself lingering over Exodus 16, where God provides the manna. And maybe there’s a lesson in that for us.
The Israelites didn’t get to choose what was on the menu. They received what God provided, day after day. It may not have been what they wanted, but it was enough. The same is true of the Word.
If you read the passage, you’ll see that eventually, the Israelites wanted something different. The manna was mundane. They were tired of it - it was the same food, again and again. But what if God had given the Israelites chocolate bars instead of manna? They probably would have been thrilled. For about five minutes. Chocolate tastes good. But chocolate isn't enough.
And maybe that's the problem with the flesh. It gives us what tastes good in the moment while starving us of what we actually need.
Honestly, sometimes the flesh can seem more exciting (yes, I just admitted that publicly). It can feel more satisfying in the moment. But the excitement of the flesh is fleeting. The satisfaction doesn’t last.
The Bread is different.
When the Word moves beyond my eyes and sinks into my heart, it nourishes something in me that the things of the flesh never can. And the more I take it in, the more I want it.
Sometimes Scripture can even feel ordinary: another morning reading, another familiar passage, another truth I’ve heard before. But then a verse reaches me differently. A truth sinks deeper. Something I’ve read a hundred times suddenly becomes something I need.
And I realize: It was never about needing something new. It was about being nourished by what is enough.
The Word is enough. Jesus is enough. I’m beginning to feel full and I love it.
Ashley’s Recommended Resources for seasons of Brokenness
Bible: Exodus
Book: Holy Spirit: God Within You, David Diga Hernandez
Music Playlist Selection: My Deliverer, Woman Evolve Worship/Gracie Binion; Believe For It; Cece Winans and Lauren Daigle; Dusty Bibles; Josiah Queen; How Good God Is, Brandon Lake
Disclaimer: This article was self-written and not the product of AI. Any use of dashes was intentionally placed by the author.