Writings of a Beholder 🌿 6.16.23
Butterscotch Bibles & new beginnings
Butterscotch Bibles & New Beginnings
“I got you a little something for today, to celebrate what this day means.”
It was our first morning waking up in our quaint little Airbnb on the coast of Maine, and as we ate our gluten-free donuts and sipped our blueberry tea, my mom handed me a small, neatly wrapped package. I held it for a moment, remembering that this was the reason we had ventured to Maine; to celebrate ten years of me walking hand in hand with Jesus.
To celebrate and name and honor and maybe even grieve the hard, painful decision I made a decade ago to leave behind a life I still sometimes see in my dreams to live a life loving and living fully for God.
It doesn’t feel like a decade ago, and yet sometimes, it feels like a hundred years ago. Like that eighteen-year-old version of myself is a stranger, even though I know she’s not because I feel her story alive within me. Her experiences are my experiences, and her wounds are my wounds.
So I held the gift in my hand, turning over the package like I was sort of turning back time, remembering the girl I was in stark contrast to the woman I am today.
My fingers unwrapped the pretty packaging and what lay inside was a meaningful note and a new journal filled with blank pages for me to spill words and prayers and thoughts and big feelings onto. I looked up with tears in my eyes and thanked my momma, who had made this journey with me, not just to Maine, but the formational journey to the woman I am today and to the woman I have yet to become.
“This is only half of your gift,” She said.“The other half arrived in the mail today, but I have a picture of it if you’d like to see it.”
I nodded my head vigorously, not wanting to wait a few more days to know what it was. She handed me her phone and I was surprised to see that she had bought me a new Bible. It was beautiful; butterscotch-colored with soft leather, and I marveled at the simple loveliness of it. This new Bible, I learned, was not only gorgeous, but it was also in a completely different translation than the Bible I had carried with me for the last decade. I looked over at the table where my worn, tattered, faithful Bible sat. Gawking at this new Bible sort of felt like a betrayal to the one who had held my secrets, my prayers, my pain, my tears, and my doubts.
Truthfully, I felt this way the entire trip, until we got back to Indiana and I held the butterscotch Bible in my hands.
I realized as my fingers ran over the soft leather that this new butterscotch Bible wasn’t just a new Bible. It represents so much of who I am becoming. My old Bible, which I will probably still reach for at times, has been with me since I was eighteen years old — since I made my decision to follow Jesus with my life. It holds so many memories, so much of who I was, every part of my past self, and every part of my journey toward the Light of healing. Its pages are so sacred because they are the pages that ultimately led me to the Love and gentle embrace of God.
That old Bible is the girl I was, and I realize now as I stare at it — its worn out, faded cover, the binding that’s falling off, the pages that are wrinkled and written on and tear-stained and maybe even a little ripped in some places — that she’s beautiful. The girl who left her old life behind ten years ago and struggled her way toward wholeness and healing, her scars and her wounds and her own worn-out, faded soul is strong and resilient and beautiful.
She let her past shape her and mold her and point her to God and although she didn’t do it all perfectly, she tried her best and eventually broke free and broke through the shame to get to the other side of love and belonging.
So as I hold my new Bible in my hands, and set the old one aside for a time, I choose here to honor who I am, who I was, and who I am becoming. Perhaps it’s taken me a decade to learn that all the different versions of me are welcome and wanted at God’s table, but here I am, with all of me in tow, ready to finally sit and receive the Love that all the different pieces of me so desperately need, and finally, want.
This butterscotch Bible represents a new beginning and a new version of me — one that’s a bit more whole and healed than the girl I knew ten years ago who was gifted that old Bible also by her momma before going off to college with a broken heart and no idea where this God-story would lead her.
But He did lead her — me — and He continues to faithfully and lovingly, and oh my goodness, am I ever so thankful for a God who embraces all of me, every version of me — every dark and light and in-between piece of me.
With all of that said, there are three things I’ve realized since returning from my trip to Maine.
God’s love and goodness have been with me every step of the way.
Most mommas are angels in disguise.
Butterscotch Bibles really can hold new beginnings.
With you on the journey,
Celia
A Breath Prayer for Your Weekend
breathe in:
“For you have made me rejoice, Lord.”
breathe out:
“For what you have done.”
(adapted from Psalm 92:4, CSB)
*if you’d like to learn more about the practice of breath prayer, check out this blog post I wrote titled, How to Use Breath Prayer.
Resources & Good Things to Pick Up
If you’re looking for a new Bible, here’s the one my momma gifted me. I’m loving everything about it: Butterscotch Bible
Grab some breath prayer cards, a journal, and other contemplative resources from my Etsy shop: The Beholding Co.
Grab a copy of my Bible study, You Are Beloved: a 21-day study on how to root your identity in the love of God, over on Amazon. And if you’d like a free 3-day sample of the study, reply to this email and I’ll send it right over!
My friend and licensed spiritual director, Kari Bartkus, offers an 8-week journaling program for those who want to process their grief and trauma with God within the safety of blank journal pages. I’ve completed the program myself and can say confidently that it was incredibly impactful and healing: Journal Gently
An Invitation to Pause & Reflect
A regular practice of reflection helps us recognize what’s going on beneath the surface of our souls so we can name it in the Lord’s presence. Because as we learn to name what we feel, what we need, and what we long for, we’re also learning to discern the Spirit’s sweet, gentle voice within our hearts and lives.
Take a few moments today or this weekend to journal or contemplate with the Holy Spirit the following question(s) or prompt(s):
What parts of your past need to be named and celebrated?
What parts of your past need to be named and grieved over?
How might you mark a new beginning in your life? With a new Bible? A candle? A journal? A trip to your favorite place?
