The story is told of an old man who lived on a farm in the mountains of Kentucky with his young grandson. Each morning, Grandpa was up early sitting at the kitchen table reading from his old worn-out Bible.

His grandson who wanted to be just like him tried to imitate him in any way he could.

One day the grandson asked, “Papa, I try to read the Bible just like you but I don’t understand it, and what I do understand I forget as soon as I close the book. What good does reading the Bible do?”

The Grandfather quietly turned from putting coal in the stove and said,”Take this coal basket down to the river and bring back a basket of water.”

The boy did as he was told, even though all the water leaked out before he could get back to the house. The grandfather laughed and said, “You will have to move a little faster next time,” and sent him back to the river with the basket to try again.

This time the boy ran faster, but again the basket was empty before he returned home. Out of breath, he told his grandfather that it was “impossible to carry water in a basket,” and he went to get a bucket instead. The old man said, “I don’t want a bucket of water; I want a basket of water. You can do this. You’re just not trying hard enough,” and he went out the door to watch the boy try again. At this point, the boy knew it was impossible, but he wanted to show his grandfather that even if he ran as fast as he could, the water would leak out before he got far at all.

The boy scooped the water and ran hard, but when he reached his grandfather the basket was again empty. Out of breath, he said, “See Papa, it’s useless!”

“So you think it is useless?” The old man said, “Look at the basket.”

The boy looked at the basket and for the first time he realized that the basket looked different. Instead of a dirty old coal basket, it was clean.

“Son, that’s what happens when you read the Bible. You might not understand or remember everything, but when you read it, it will change you from the inside out. That is the work of God in our lives. To change us from the inside out and to slowly transform us into the image of His son.”

“Take one book at a time. Don’t be in a hurry. Read a book over, over and over. god will give light. The sixty-six books are sixty-six battering rams for Christians to conquer Satan with. So we shall slay and conquer. Try different ways of studying the Bible till you succeed. My wife wanted me to like tomatoes. I tried them raw, with vinegar, with sugar, and cooked, but I could not eat them. At last she thought of another way, and succeeded, and I thought it the best vegetable in the world.”
–D. L. Moody

There is a loneliness about this place … this place of my choosing. Surrounded by the things of life, I have suddenly come face to face with the solitariness of life. One person, one life, one place, one God, one moment in time-solitary, alone, yet not alone.

God has chosen his way of filling this place and this space in my life with the “ordinariness” of life. How long has it been since I lost the sense of the wondrous, magnificent works of God? How long has it been since I have been excited about what God is doing before ray very eyes? How long has it been since God became ordinary?

How strange that the sun should become ordinary to me, that clouds, and rain, and snow, and sunshine have become common, pedestrian fare.

How strange that God should choose to speak through naked branches having neither bud nor bloom, that God should choose to utter sounds through rivers and streams frozen in place, in icicles glittering
promises of still more winter, still more discontent.

Or that God should choose to brave speaking through the commonplace roads of my existence and has made them icy, slippery, impassable, treacherous … sending me off in unknown directions, sliding, sometimes falling, meeting new hurt-in peculiar places. How strange of God to speak through the ordinariness of life. How strange.

I do not know  why I am here. I do not know what I am to do here. More to the point, I do not know how I got to this place, which is so far from where I started out, so far from the destination to which I was determined to go. I only know that I must follow that Voice, the Voice that speaks in tones that I am familiar with, tones that I have so often failed to listen to and failed often to understand or obey.

Could it be that I am in this lonely place, this solitary space, to wait again for the Empowering Presence?… to wait again for the Call that I alone am burdened to hear? … to wait again for that purifying, energizing, frightening fire that burns within?

I need to feel it again. I need to know that God’s fire is my fire. I desperately need to know that my loneliness is not permanent and that my solitariness is filled with the awesome purposefulness of God.

This moment, this hour, this time is not mine, it belongs to God. I am now wholly alone, wholly vulnerable, wholly available. Come, Holy Spirit, with wind and fire. Let your breath blow anew in my life. Penetrate my soul and my personality with the power of your touch. Broken, humbled, frightened, unsure of today and tomorrow … only sure that you are there. Come, Holy Spirit, use me now! Let the fire burn!