No atheists in foxholes

It will come as no surprise.  I am attempting to re-home a case of New Testaments to Missouri. 

Bear with me, if you've read this before.  January 2003 was a very bad time for me.  Ron had been hit by a pickup truck, while walking to work, and sustained MAJOR damage.  He actually died on the scene and was revived. 

He was airlifted to the trauma center, with a very grim prognosis.  I wonder if they thought he'd be an organ donor. 

When I heard the news, the first thing I grabbed was my Bible.   Even backslidden, I knew I was in for a pain only He could bear.  In fact, as I waited, He gave me the answer I sought, Ron would live.  Psalm 72

I had a Bible, and the comfort of knowing God.  As Ron slowly improved, I started to look around.  I had God.  I had a Bible. 

They didn't.  I watched families on deathwatch, lamenting things they'd said and done.  I watched people get the good news their loved one had survived surgery; and saw them taken off to the quiet room when they didn't. 

So much pain.  I had a Bible.  They didn't. 

I had to share.  The next time I went home, I got the extra paperback Bibles I'd picked up during various manias, and brought them to the hospital. 

I laugh now at my fear.  I was so timid.  So afraid of what they would think.  I put the Bibles out when everyone went to lunch, then took my own lunch as they came back. 

When I came back, every family had a Bible.  Every single one. 

They say there are no atheists in foxholes; from what I've seen, no atheists in ICU waiting room, either. 

So, as I read about the progressive tragedy that is Joplin, Missouri, a case of Bibles silently burn a hole in my carpet.  If at all possible, I'll send them to Missouri, where they can bring comfort to hurting souls. 

Please take a moment to pray for the victims.