I have this really strange obsession with old books. (If you’ve been in my house, you can clearly see this.) I know they’re really popular for decor reasons right now, but I love them for so much more than that…the way they smell, the way an occasional page will pop out, the roughed up edges, and their often odd little titles. I have a minor freakout if I find an old book with a name or some kind of writing inside. I love trying to figure out what that person was like and where they are now.
I was snooping around Goodwill the other day and came across this beat up old Bible. I melted a little over how well-loved it seemed and it was only a couple of bucks, so I picked it up and took it home. I sat in my little chaise by the window for a good hour and flipped through it. No names, but every page had at least one verse underlined and noted upon. If I were to take a good guess, it once belonged to a preacher. I feel really blessed to have the next couple of weeks off to delve into it a bit deeper. Pretty fantastic.