Page 36 of Dare to Hold
Maybe it’s about being found.
I pick up the first one that catches my eye—soft pink leather with delicate gold lettering. Pretty. The kind of book you’d want to leave out on a coffee table, even if you never opened it.
Then I notice a navy one with a zipper closure and a cream one with tiny, embossed flowers curling along the spine.
But then I freeze.
Each one has a little set of letters under the word “Bible.” NIV. ESV. KJV.
Wait…what?
I grab my phone and type, “What does KJV mean?” Articles pop up with words like “translation,” “literal,” “thought-for-thought,” and “paraphrase.”
I read through a few until I get the gist. They are all versions of the Bible—saying the same thing, just in slightly different ways—but how am I supposed to know which one is right for me? This feels less like picking a book and more like picking a side.
I sigh, setting the pink one back.
That’s when something colorful on the next shelf catches my eye. A whole display of pastel highlighters, gel pens, and the cutest little Bible verse stickers I’ve ever seen.There are tabs with gold-foil lettering, too, like tiny jewelry for your pages.
I glance back at the Bibles, then at the pens.
If I’m going to study this thing…I feel like I need these.
Not want. Need.
Because apparently, buying a Bible is now a full-blown experience.
I’m still staring at the rainbow pack of highlighters when my phone buzzes.
Gray
How’s your day going?
I glance between the pens in my hand and the row of Bibles in front of me, suddenly tempted to ask him for help. But instead of thinking it through, my thumbs just type:
Ivy
I need help.
Not even two seconds later, my phone starts ringing.
I answer, startled. “Hello?”
“Ivy—are you okay? Where are you? What happened?” His voice is tight, urgent, like he’s already halfway to his truck.
My eyes widen. “Oh—oh my gosh, no! Sorry! I’m fine. I’m literally in a bookstore. I just…worded that really badly.”
There’s a pause, then a long exhale. “You cannot text me ‘I need help’ with no context. My heart just shaved five years off my life.”
I bite my lip, feeling a little sheepish. “Noted. For future reference, ‘I need help picking a Bible’ would’ve been the better route?”
“Much better,” he says, though I can hear the smile in his voice now. “Alright, tell me what’s going on.”
I lean my hip against the shelf, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder while I glance at the row of Bibles again.
“So, here’s the thing,” I say. “I picked up a few that looked pretty—like, really pretty. But then I noticed all these little labels—ESV, NIV, KJV—and now I feel like I’m trying to order at a restaurant where the menu is in another language.”
Gray chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “Okay, so those are just different translations. The Bible was originally written in Hebrew and Greek, so what you’re seeing is basically the English version someone translated it into. Each one has a slightly different style of wording. Same truth—just different ways of saying it.”
