I was a junior in college when my Bible study leader, Tina, recommended that I memorize Scripture.
She pulled out a card from her pocket to show me. “I write my memory verse on this and carry it in my pocket,” she said.
In her neat printing, it read,
Blessed is the one
…whose delight is in the law of the Lord,
and who meditates on his law day and night.
I felt the familiar weight of anxiety settle on my shoulders. I knew I should memorize. I was also supposed to be praying more, too, and studying my Bible for longer—
The idea of doing another thing made me feel like weeping.
I blinked, willing away my dismay, and smiled at Tina. “That looks neat.”
We were walking along the pebbled pathway from my dorm to the main campus road. The first part of the pathway was open to the hot Texas sun, but then the live oak canopy started, the light growing dimmer and dimmer as we walked. Their bark was gnarled, rippling with the slow power of hundreds of years.
She smiled back at me. “Just start small,” she said. “It gets easier!”
Her smile was as bright as the hot, exposed sidewalk.
I had no excuse, really. I was actually good at memorizing things. No excuse. I told myself, grateful for the shadow of the trees. No excuse.
It never occurred to me to say: No, thank you.
I wouldn’t have dared.
I’m at the lovely journal Rock & Sling again today talking about the difference between discipline and hunger. Won’t you join me?
Image credit: faungg’s photo