“My Word…will not return to Me empty, without accomplishing what I desire, and without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it.” Isaiah 55:11
“Here I sit, — fresh from father’s workshop. He’s put so much work into me and I can’t wait to see little Timmy’s face when I’m brought into my family’s house. I’m big and strong and will hold all kinds of treasures for Timmy. Will he have a little car that he loves and plays with for hours? Maybe a train or a farm animal or two. This is the most exciting day of my existence! I’ve heard father talk while he made me day after day. I think he’s a Christian. One day when he missed a nail and hit his finger I heard him speak to Jesus Christ.
The day is here. I’m in Timmy’s room and my lid is wide open. I’m ready for Timmy’s treasures. What a beautiful room he has. It’s obvious Timmy’s mother and father love him. There are bookshelves that father made; filled with books for Timmy. Books of rhymes, books about dragons and fairies; car books, train books; and oh yes, — a new Bible story book. They must really take care of that book. It looks just like new; but, it’s covered with dust and has other books and papers piled on top of it. Strange don’t you think? They must not know the Author.
It’s been a year since I came to live in Timmy’s room. Timmy doesn’t spend a lot of time in here, he’s usually sitting in front of that funny box that they all call a TV. Can’t figure that one out. The box doesn’t talk or play with Timmy. He just sits and stares at it. But, you should see all of the toys that I am holding for Timmy. There are so many that my lid won’t close. Instead of one car he has at least 20; instead of one beloved train, he has at least 15; he even has talking toys by the dozens. But, he doesn’t seem to really care about any of them very much. He leaves them out in the yard and rain; most are battered, but not from being played with. How strange, — don’t you think?
Years have gone by and the Bible story book has fallen behind the bed, but no one seems to be looking for it. Even a toy box knows that it should be cared for and read and talked about. Maybe they don’t know that it’s fallen; perhaps they don’t know anything about the Author; strange don’t you think!
I’ve been here for many years now. The toys that I’ve held have numbered in the hundreds, but none have been treasured by Timmy. New ones appear regularly, but soon fall into me and are forgotten. Timmy outgrew his bed and has another one now. Mother found the Bible story book, but just tossed it into me. But, a few days later I saw her put a Bible on the desk that had Timmy’s grandfather’s name on the outside. It’s really tattered and the pages are worn. Mother almost threw it into me, but then decided that its color matched the curtains. Timmy looks at it at night.
Many many years have passed; Timmy’s a big man now. I’m worn and in need of some repair; but father isn’t around anymore to fix me because I’ve come to live in Timmy’s house. He has a little baby boy and I’m in his room. There isn’t much in this room, just a single little train and a few toy soldiers that are carefully put in me when playtime is over. But, on the bed is the little Bible story book that I thought was long forgotten. Timmy and his wife sit on the bed every night with the baby and read it. Strange don’t you think? I guess Timmy got to know the Author.