Someone at some point gave the Bible chapters and sections and verses. While this is super helpful for Bible studies and memorizing verses and creating sections to focus on, it’s not how the original text was written. Therefore, it can occasionally hinder how we read, study, and understand the Bible.
I’m a writer and that, on top of doing BCC with YWAM, has kind of conditioned me to read the Bible in a literary way. Meaning, I try not to read the Bible as individual verses or chapters, but chunks of texts we now know of as books. For the bigger ones, it’s difficult because we don’t always have time to read all of Genesis in one sitting. But you can take the larger context into consideration and always look at what was before and what is after.
It can make the biggest difference in how you understand what you’re reading.
For example, this verse, which is the start of a new section of Genesis 6:9.
These are the generations of Noah. Noah was a righteous man, blameless in his generation. Noah walked with God.
Because I love breaking them. Pushing the lines. Asking why they are rules. Realizing they are rules for a reason and then choosing to follow them not because I’m told to, but because I can see the benefit in following them… And then breaking them just for the hell of it.
Okay, but really, I have grown in this area and I can follow rules better now-a-days- especially if I highly respect the authority figure that has made that rule. Continue reading →
My throat burns and my cheeks are wet. With blood? With sweat? With tears? I close my eyes and push my hands against my face, shaking my head quickly so the strands of dirty hair fly wildly. I want to scream again but I can’t take a breath and without air, there’s not much you can do. I want to run but without space, there’s not very many places you can go.
I want it all to end but with so much love, you can’t justify ending anything at all.
“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” was the mantra he heard day and night. The words were whispered against his ear, shouted from the roof, scratched into his skin by the people who were supposed to love him.
“Weak,” the insult is spat his way after he once again let tears slip out of his deep, hot eyes.
“Control yourself,” he whispered, pulling the blanket over his chest and turning on to his side.
His phone started singing promptly at three am that night. He slapped the ‘off’ button and pushed the blanket to the floor, exposing his sweating legs to the cool, sharp air. He tugs on his dirty pair of jeans and a large sweatshirt before fishing the worn bag out from under his bed. Continue reading →