A few weeks ago, I found myself trying to figure out what to do with an old Bible.
I bought this particular Bible back in 2005 at a Family Christian Bookstore in the area of Ohio where I was living at the time. Does anyone else remember Family Christian? I have to admit, I kind of miss that place. There was something about walking into a Christian bookstore, wandering through the shelves, looking at Bibles, books, music, gifts, and all the things that seemed to make you want to take home far more than you came in looking for.
And somewhere in one of those stores, nearly 21 years ago, I bought this Bible.
It wasn't an expensive Bible. I think I paid around $25 for it. But over the years, it became my Bible. It traveled with me. It sat on my desk. It went with me to church. It became part of the rhythms of my life. Its pages became marked up, worn, highlighted, and familiar. It became one of those things that carries a little bit of your story with it.
Eventually, though, the fake leather cover began to deteriorate. The material started cracking and peeling, and before long, the Bible looked like it had seen much better days.
So, I started looking into having it rebound.
Then reality set in.
Professional Bible rebinding can easily cost $150 or more. And as much as I love this Bible, I couldn't quite justify spending six times what I originally paid for it just to put a new cover on it.
Then someone gave me an idea I hadn't considered:
"What about the Amish?"
That question sent me down an unexpected path.
I live in what we call the Thumb of Michigan. If you look at the shape of Michigan, it looks a little like a mitten—and we're way out in the thumb. This is rural Michigan. Farming communities, country roads, small towns, fields, barns, and plenty of space between houses. There are also Amish and Mennonite communities throughout the area.
Someone from our church who does quite a bit of work with the Amish told me about a man named John Yoder.
So last week, I made the trip out to meet him, and I brought my old Bible with me.
I expected a fairly simple transaction: hand over the Bible, talk about what needed to be done, and eventually come back to pick it up.
But as often happens in life, things don't always turn out quite the way you expect.
John and I talked. We talked about the Bible. We talked about the work he does. We talked about life. And somewhere along the way, I realized that I wasn't simply dropping off an old Bible to be repaired.
I was getting to know another person.
This morning, I made the trip back to pick up my Bible. And something happened that made this whole experience mean even more to me.
Today, John and I had a deeper conversation.
It wasn't just about the Bible. It wasn't just about the work he had done. We talked about life. We talked about faith. We talked about people. We talked about some of the things that matter beneath the surface of everyday life.
And as I sat there talking with him, I found myself thinking about how interesting this whole journey had been.
I went looking for someone who could repair an old Bible.
Instead, God gave me an opportunity to meet someone I probably would have never met otherwise.
And maybe that's part of what makes life so interesting.
Sometimes we're so focused on what we're going to accomplish that we miss who God has placed in front of us along the way.
Maybe we need to slow down.
We live in a world that makes connection incredibly easy—and genuine relationships incredibly difficult.
We can text someone in seconds. We can send an email across the country. We can follow thousands of people on social media. We can communicate constantly without ever actually sitting down and getting to know someone.
But there's something different about sitting across from another person. Listening, asking questions, sharing stories, learning someone's perspective, and taking the time to actually know them.
I think that's something we, as Christians, need to remember.
Our faith was never meant to be lived from a distance. Jesus didn't simply send messages to people. He walked with people, He ate with people, He listened to people, He entered into people's lives, and ultimately, He gave His life for people.
That's what makes relationships so important.
Before I left John's place today, I asked him if I could pray with him.
I could tell by his expression that this wasn't something he was necessarily accustomed to having someone from outside his community ask. But he said yes.
He took his hat off, and we prayed together.
I thanked God for connecting me with John. I thanked God for the gifts He has given John and for the way John uses those gifts to provide for his family. I prayed that God would bless John, his family, and their business.
And I prayed that God would continue to use the gifts He has given John to connect him with other people and that, through his work, people would experience the love of Christ.
When we finished praying, I thanked him for his time and started making my way out. Then I stopped and asked him one more question. "Do you like coffee?"
He shook his head yes and told me that he does. So I told him, "Next time I come out, I'll bring you a coffee."
And just like that, something that started with an old Bible had become something more. A conversation. A prayer. A cup of coffee waiting to happen, and maybe even a friendship.
There's an interesting irony in this story.
I originally wanted my Bible rebound because the cover was falling apart. But somewhere along the way, I was reminded that people are never meant to be treated as transactions.
I could have simply dropped off my Bible, paid for the work, picked it up, and gone home.
Instead, I had conversations. I learned someone's story. I prayed with someone. And today, I walked away feeling like I had made a new friend.
That's something I didn't expect when I first started looking for someone to repair a $25 Bible.
Paul writes in Romans 12:10, "Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves."
That's more than a command to simply be nice to people. It's an invitation to see people differently. To slow down, listen, learn someone's story, to value the person standing in front of us, and to recognize that every person we encounter is someone created in the image of God.
My $25 Bible has a new cover now.
But I think I received something far more valuable than a repaired Bible. I received a reminder that God is still creating connections in the most unexpected places. That relationships often begin when we simply take the time to talk, that we can learn something from people whose lives and experiences may look very different from our own. And a reminder that sometimes the simplest moments become the ones we remember the longest.
The Bible is bound again.
But perhaps the more important thing is that a new friendship has begun.
And maybe that's the lesson I needed to learn from this whole experience:
Don't be so focused on what you're there to accomplish that you miss the person God put in front of you.
Because sometimes an old Bible that needs a new cover can lead you to a conversation you never expected, a prayer you didn't plan, and a friendship you never knew you needed.
And now, the next time I drive down that country road to see John, I'll be carrying something besides a Bible. I'll be carrying a cup of coffee for a friend. And perhaps that's just another reminder of what the Bible has been teaching us all along: We were never meant to do life alone.
