It’s been a great number of years since my paternal grandmother passed away.  I was still in high school at the time.  A few short years after that, I was visiting my grandfather’s home and there on a small coffee table sat my grandmother’s Bible.  I remember opening it up and noting the great number of verses she had underlined within.

Even in my late teens I recognized the value of that Bible. Not monetary value, mind you, but personal value. My Grandmother loved the Lord Jesus Christ. Her Bible, the notations she made and the things she underlined were a clear reflection of her heart. They denoted spiritual lessons learned. They clearly indicated what she found important. They defined her. They defined her far more than the material treasures she had acquired over her lifetime.

I had hoped that one day that Bible would be mine. That maybe, I could learn from the lessons she learned. My own Bible is filled with my notations and copious amounts of underlined verses. I hope, one day, my Bible will be deemed a valuable treasure by someone else. Someone who maybe needs to hang on to the very essence of who I was at my very core. And I hope they will come to a deep understanding and love for the Father who created me as a result. That’s a worthwhile legacy.

I hope you enjoy this article written by Blair Hurley.

It’s been three years now since my mother’s death, and I’m still wondering why I haven’t spoken with her in so long. There’s a feeling of unreality about the whole thing; it’s hard to believe that …

(Clink on the link highlighted in red below to read the complete article.)  

Source: My Mother is Gone, But Her Edits Remain | Literary Hub