The one thing that had provided her comfort in the past found its way back to her...

A woman in my office recognized your name,” my son-in-law Scott said to me. He and my daughter Kim were visiting me at home. “She can’t figure out how. She just said it sounded familiar.” Scott told her my name when his friends at the office said they would pray for me. I’d just been diagnosed with an aggressive form of colon cancer. I was only 57, in good health, with no history of cancer in my family.

But now I required surgery and who knew what else. I was terrified. “Tell her and everyone else I appreciate their prayers,” I said. “I need all I can get.” That night I flipped through my Bible, lingering over favourite passages. How many times had a Bible provided comfort in times of fear? I remembered the Bible my husband Don, gave me on my 27th birthday, personalized with a navy leather cover.

I took it to church every Sunday. But one week I left it. I scanned the pews and asked friends if they’d seen it; no one had. I would’ve kept searching, but soon we moved to another part of Jacksonville and to a new congregation. Not that I regretted the move. We’d been at our current church for over 15 years and after my diagnosis, faith, prayers of friends and of a loving family became my lifeline.

Still, even their prayers and the prayers of strangers across town didn’t seem like enough to help me. The next week Kim and Scott came again. Scott was holding something. “The oddest thing happened,” he said. “Remember the woman in my office? It turns out she goes to Englewood Christian.” My old church! At once I was flooded with fond memories. “She knew me there?” I asked.

“No,” Scott said. “It was from something she’d seen in a classroom.” Then he handed me a well-loved, well-read, navy-leather book. And on the cover, in silver lettering, my name. I’ve been cancer-free for four years now. I appreciate more than ever my old Bible, which came home to me so unexpectedly when I needed it most.