Scripture Stories for Little Saints

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9. Son of laughter (Genesis 17-21) Feb 01, 2026

Show notes

Genesis 21:6 And Sarah said, God hath made me to laugh. (KJV)

Hagar had her baby boy, and Sarai watched as the child drew its first breath, then cried, nursed, calmed, and fell asleep. And Hagar also cried for joy and for tiredness, and then she fell asleep too. And while Hagar slept, Sarai took the child, and held him against her chest, and wished it had been hers. She ran her hand over his belly. She straightened his curled fingers and put her thumb against his jaw. The body was too perfect. She couldn’t look into his eyes. Because in the eyes she knew she’d see God’s promise fulfilled. Fulfilled without her.

And so she shook her head and closed her eyes and set the baby back into the arms of his sleeping mother. This was not her boy. It was silly to pretend. He was Hagar’s to love, Hagar’s to raise. Sarai’s own servant had replaced her. God had cut her out of the family. She was the tiniest, most insignificant footnote in God’s big, beautiful story. Worse than a footnote. Sarai was a speed bump. One of the people who got in the way.

Sarai didn’t want to be in the way any longer. So she stepped aside and watched that night as the family continued without her. She watched as Abram snuggled, held, and kissed the baby. The promised child, at last. Abram looked into his eyes and sure enough, he saw what Sarai had feared. He called the boy Ishmael, and Ishmael grew tall and strong. And Abram was content, believing God’s promise was fulfilled.

But there were more prayers and plans and purposes than Abram’s. When Sarai turned 90 years old, God spoke again and said, “Abram, you have misunderstood. This prophecy, it was never just about you. It was always about Sarai, too. You will be a father to nations, but Sarai will be the mother.”

Abram laughed. “Sarai is so old. It’s way, way, way too late for her to have a baby.” When Sarai found out, she laughed, too. But her laugh was not just in disbelief. It was a harsh, bitter laugh, full of so many years of hurt and sorrow and disappointment because Abram was right. It was too late. God’s promise was made decades ago. And if her womb was dried up then, it was desolate now, drier than the driest desert.

“She is not too old,” God said, “and neither are you.” And right then and there, God gave Abram and Sarai new names. Even though they were almost a hundred years old, God was treating them like brand-new babies. “I will call you Abraham and Sarah,” said God. “You are not old. You are not old at all. You are newborns, my little children, my newlyweds, my growing family.”

And sure enough, even though Sarah was 90 years old, she became pregnant. She couldn’t believe it. But then she felt the quickening, the holy moving and hiccuping and living happening inside of her, and she laughed again, a shocked, delighted laugh. And the laugh was not without some tears — of hope, of relief. She laughed in her old age. She laughed as she grew older and rounder. She laughed all the way into her ninth month. And her laughter drew from the well of her sorrows — a hole that was deep, so very deep, but reached a source that was cold and pure as spring water. And each laugh drew from deeper places until when she laughed her stomach contracted, and the birth began.

It hurt as her old body strained. But as the child was pushed out, the feeling deepened in pain and in sacredness. It was purifying her soul, like the deepest laughter of all. And then she screamed and gasped. And there was the baby. And Abraham stared in astonishment at his tiny, chubby fists that bent tightly around his papery, wrinkled fingers.

The boy was named Isaac, which means son of laughter. And the laughter continued. Sarah laughed watching her boy nurse, and then sleep, and wake with fluttering eyes. She laughed softly as he cuddled into her. She laughed as he grew fat and toddled across the floor, stumbling and tripping. He was her joy of joys. And laughter filled his childhood. It was as primitive to his life as breath itself.

And the laughter remains in the air today, a sound like an angel’s music that fills all of eternity. It is the sound your mother made when you were born. It is the sound your father made the first time you smiled. It is the sound of hopes realized, promises fulfilled, and joy overflowing. We laugh, we laugh, we laugh.

To purchase a hard copy of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, visit ForLittleSaints.com

To access the complete audiobook of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, become a Friend of Faith Matters by subscribing at FaithMatters.org/subscribe.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.faithmatters.org/subscribe

7. A million, billion, trillion babies (Genesis 12-15) Jan 25, 2026

Show notes

Genesis 15:5 And he brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be.” (ESV)

Abram and Sarai were the family God chose to build his city. But they were just learning what that meant. It didn’t mean they got all the best stuff. Quite the opposite. They’d given all the good stuff away. Abram and Sarai did not get the best farmland or grazing pastures. They did not get the newest toys or the biggest homes. Instead, they lived on a scrubby little farm growing scrubby little crops. And God promised to preserve this land for them and their descendants forever.

Now, it might not seem all that great to be promised mediocre land forever and ever and ever. But Abram and Sarai were going to make the most of what they had. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all terrible. There were even some really nice trees in one spot. So that’s where they decided to live and work. And they did work. And work. And work and work and work. They worked so hard because they had to. Or else they’d starve.

And while Abram and Sarai had to carefully plow the earth and place seeds in the dirt and water the land to get even small sprouts to appear, Lot’s family could throw seeds into the wind, and wherever they landed, they grew tall and bright. And the family of Lot looked at the green growth and the streams of water and praised God. “Thank you for giving us this practically perfect land!” they said. And they thought, “We are the lucky ones.”

But good land is easy to covet. And before long, several armies had arrived to take the land from Lot and his family. And Lot and his wife and his daughters were captured and carried away as prisoners, and they would have been sold into slavery if Abram hadn’t run to rescue them.

And after Abram’s daring rescue, Lot’s family returned to their beautifully fertile land, and Abram returned to his scorched, brown world. But he didn’t feel even a little sorry for himself. On the contrary, he thought he was the lucky one. God had given them this land forever because bad land is safe land. Armies don’t fight over wasteland. So while it was harder to grow food, God was protecting them and their future children from other people, armies, and jealousies. This way, they would never be captured, or carried away as prisoners, or sold into slavery.

“This is exactly why it pays to follow God,” Abram thought. “Because God is smart and wise and far-sighted. He will always keep us safe, thank goodness.”

But that night, God visited Abram in his dreams. “Abram,” said God, “I have something to show you.” And God showed Abram that even though he had bad land, that still wasn’t going to keep his family safe. In fact, his descendants would be forced into slavery. And they’d remain slaves for 400 years. His family would suffer injustice and inhumanity, hunger and humiliation.

This wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare! And a very confusing nightmare at that. What was the point of following God if it didn’t make life safer or simpler? “God,” thought Abram, “you don’t make this easy.”

God just smiled. “I haven’t finished,” he said. “After 400 years, they will escape and be free again. And they will be wealthy but not just with money. They will be rich with things like knowledge and experience. They will remember their slavery. And they will invent new ways for how to treat people. They will write new laws that encourage honesty, fairness, kindness, and charity. Laws that challenge the powerful and give resources to the poor. Laws that treat everyone with dignity, because they will believe that all people deserve freedom, even the poorest and most insignificant. And they will build societies that try to live by these laws. And they will have to work hard, very hard. And they will fail a lot. But eventually, they will create a new nation. My nation. And this family, community, city, nation — they will change the world.”

Abram woke from his dream with a gasp. And he realized two things that were definitely, absolutely true. First, with or without God, life was always going to be full of pain and sorrow and unfairness. There was no getting around it. Following God wasn’t going to solve all his problems or his children’s problems. It wouldn’t make him lucky or unlucky.

Second, being lucky or unlucky wasn’t the point. You don’t follow God because it makes your life easy or protects you from hurt or unfairness or blisters or burns. It doesn’t. God wasn’t trying to make some people rich and others poor. God was building a family. A city. A city that was like a family where people would take care of each other. And they’d help the poor, comfort the sad, and make sure everyone had food to eat and friends to play with. And living this way would make bad luck less scary and good luck less necessary. Because people would always be there to help, no matter what.

And God explained that Abram was going to be the father of this family. And soon he’d have tons and tons of children. Abram could see them now. This family would grow and grow with babies becoming children becoming adults becoming parents having more babies and more babies and more babies, no end in sight. There would be more people than there is sand on the beach. And they would grow bigger, and kinder, and better. Each person sharing their light with each other until they lit up the night sky, like a canopy of a million, billion, trillion stars.

This was going to be one large, forever-growing family. There was just one problem. Abram and Sarai couldn’t get pregnant.

To purchase a hard copy of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, visit ForLittleSaints.com

To access the complete audiobook of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, become a Friend of Faith Matters by subscribing at FaithMatters.org/subscribe.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.faithmatters.org/subscribe

5. The people who ran away from the earth (Genesis 11) Jan 18, 2026

Show notes

Genesis 11:4 they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens. (NIV)

If you’ve been reading this book, you’ve probably noticed that ever since Adam and Eve left the garden, the world has not seemed like a very safe place. First, there were thorns and predators. Then one person was killed. Then people started growing old and dying. Then wars started, and tons of people died. And then, out of nowhere, the world filled with water, and the huge flood killed pretty much everything. The only survivors were the animals and plants on Noah’s boat.

And so the family of Noah started all over. And they grew and grew into a town, then a city, then a nation, which is when they decided to build a tower. A tall tower that was more of a ladder. It was a tall, tall ladder that they could use to climb right out of the world and into heaven. “Because in heaven,” they thought, “there are no wars, or tornadoes, or murder, or death or dying. Because God is there. And God will keep everyone safe.” In heaven, the people would be protected from thorns, predators, bad ideas, other people, and, of course, floods. The people really didn’t want to drown in any more floods.

And so they started building, floor by floor. And the higher they got, the more excited they became. “Look how tiny the trees are from here!” they said. “We can almost touch the clouds.” How much further will they have to build? They must nearly be there. Maybe God was on top of the next cloud. But soon enough, they were through the clouds and still no heaven and no God. And so they kept building. And building. And building.

Soon, they thought, we will be in heaven and we will knock on God’s door and say, ‘Hello there! Can we stay with you?’” And they imagined seeing God and how he would respond. He would certainly be proud of them for finding their way back home and maybe even a little impressed.

But God was not proud of them, though he was a little impressed. Working together, they managed to build a most remarkable skyscraper. It was an architectural triumph. There was something so right about what they were doing. They were looking for heaven. And they were doing it by working together. But there was something very wrong about why they were doing it.

The whole grand endeavor was being motivated by fear. Fear of the world. And fear of death. And while they thought they were running towards God, they were running away from him as well.

Because God did not live in the sky. He was not hiding behind a cloud. Heaven was not up there at all. It was going to be built here, on the beautiful earth God had created. And so God wanted his children to stop building a ladder to climb to heaven, and to start building heaven, on the very world they were trying to escape.

God didn’t want them to fear the world, or to run away. He needed his children to face their fears. To love the world so they could help fix it. They didn’t need to run back to God, because he was coming for them.

Because heaven was not a destination in the sky, but a project. It was a community built not with bricks but with people. This big tower was getting in the way of what they ought to be building. And what they ought to be building was a community. And this community would grow sideways, not upwards.

It would stretch wider and wider, spreading across the entire world. It would include all kinds of people with all kinds of different ideas and experiences. And together, they would build not one thing, but millions. They would produce food and purify water. They would build schools for children and universities for adults. They’d build cities and write books and discover planets and molecules and equations. They’d overcome famine and war and disease. They’d save plants and animals and each other from floods, hurricanes, and extinction. They’d bless the world in thousands of different ways, with millions of different people using their billions of different talents. They’d do so much, learn so much, and accomplish so much more than building a tall tower.

But to do this, they needed to understand not just the power of unity but also the blessing of differences. They didn’t need just one goal, or a master architect, or a king, or a CEO. They needed to learn how to fit together, and be together, and disagree together, and forgive together, and love together so they could keep living together forever.

Then God had an idea. He would help the family of Noah remember their differences. So God performed a miracle. While everyone was sleeping, he changed their languages. When people woke up and went to work in the morning, they found that some of them spoke English, while others spoke Mandarin, Russian, Malaise, French, Vietnamese, and Zulu.

And just like that, the people stopped building the tower because they could not understand each other. The brick makers were using centimeters while the bricklayers were using inches. The mortar mixers didn’t make enough mortar. People no longer fit so nicely into owners and workers, supervisors and laborers, bricklayers and brick makers.

Because the bricklayer was no longer just a bricklayer. They all spoke different languages, and some of them were also mothers, aunts, knitters, and runners as well. The mortar mixers were no longer just mortar mixers. They all had different dialects and different hobbies. Some played chess, others checkers, and others were soccer enthusiasts. And the architects were not just architects. They communicated differently, and some were also grandparents, painters, and cheese connoisseurs. They were all so incredibly different.

But instead of learning to deal with each other as the full, complex individuals they all were, they just gave up. How could they talk together with so many different languages? How could they solve problems with so many different opinions? How could they achieve new heights with so many different perspectives? And so, instead of learning to work together, instead of harnessing the power of their different skills, backgrounds, and perspectives, they split apart. And instead of building heaven on earth, they created armies and walls and fences. And they split up into different groups and ran away from each other.

And over the next thousand years, the tower decayed and crumbled, and then all at once it fell, collapsed, and pounded the earth with so much fury that it almost seemed angry to have been left unfinished. And in its place, the people began to build new cities and new empires. They fought over land and killed each other for water. And they divided into countries and continents. And it seemed like the earth had never been further from heaven.

And God decided that if he was ever going to help his children build heaven on earth, he’d have to start with a single family. And he would teach that family to care for each other, and to not turn away or be afraid when people were different or confusing or inconvenient. And that family would grow and fill the whole earth. And as they grew wider and wider, heart by heart, generation upon generation, they would stretch nearer and nearer to heaven. Until at last they would realize that they were themselves the tower. God’s tower. And he was already there with them, welcoming them home.

To purchase a hard copy of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, visit ForLittleSaints.com

To access the complete audiobook of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, become a Friend of Faith Matters by subscribing at FaithMatters.org/subscribe.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.faithmatters.org/subscribe

3. Cain, who was a perfectionist (Genesis 4) Jan 11, 2026

Show notes

Genesis 4:7 If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? (NIV)

Life after Eden was even harder than Eve or Adam could have imagined. Eve got pregnant and gave birth to one boy and then another. And they named them Cain and Abel. And while childbirth was so, so, so hard, it still wasn’t as hard as raising children. Because although children are adorable and snuggly and delightful, they are also a lot of work.

For example, when their baby Abel got a stomachache, he stayed up all night crying. So in the morning, Eve and Adam were very tired and a little grumpy. And because they were tired and grumpy, they quarreled over whose turn it was to change his diaper. And they spent the whole day feeling tired and grumpy and angry at each other until finally they apologized during dinner. And though apologizing seems easy enough, it wasn’t. Like everything about living in this world, it was surprisingly difficult.

In the Garden, Adam and Eve never had to cook a meal. They simply plucked berries from thornless bushes, fruits from short trees, and honey from stingless bees. But in the world, the bushes all had thorns, and the trees were tall and rough, and the bees had stingers. Getting food was not so simple anymore.

But even after bloodying their hands plucking berries, and skinning their knees climbing trees, and getting stung on their face trying to retrieve honey, they were still hungry. The harder they worked to gather food, the more food they needed. The sweet berries, fruit, and honey were not enough.

Have you ever seen a lamb? It’s white, and fluffy, and oh so cuddly. Well, it’s something else as well. It’s tasty. And Adam and Eve were getting hungrier and hungrier. They needed fats, proteins, and meat to feed their hard-working bodies. And looking at the sheep, they started to salivate. Pretty soon, they were meat eaters.

And God taught them a ritual, so they would never forget the preciousness of life and the cost of survival. They had to give some of their sheep back to God. It was called a sacrifice. Abel would put a lamb on a rock, and God would send fire down to take the lamb back to heaven. It was a way to thank the animals for giving their lives. And also thank God for creating all the animals.

As Cain grew, he watched his parents mess up and make mistakes, and have to kill and eat innocent animals. They were always having to say “thank you” and “I’m sorry.” And Cain decided that he was going to do something different. “Maybe the world has fallen,” he said, “but I don’t have to fall with it. I don’t have to get tired or angry or grumpy. Nothing has to die in order for me to survive. I will be self-reliant. And I will never have to say thank you or I’m sorry because I will live perfectly perfect all the time, all by myself.” And so Cain became the first perfectionist.

Perfectionist, a definition:

A perfectionist is someone who is terrified of imperfection. They are scared of being late, or dirty, or wrong, or smelly, or rude, or any other kind of imperfect. When they do make a mistake, instead of looking at God and saying “oops,” they look at themselves and say “yikes!” Being a perfectionist is not easy. Because whenever you try to be perfect, you fail. Because you are not perfect. No one is. And if you are scared of failing all the time, you will find that it is very difficult to be happy or pleasant or nice or good. Which only makes you more imperfect. And so perfectionism is a burden that multiplies itself. The longer you carry it, the heavier it becomes until at last it crushes you.

Cain was a perfectionist. While Abel cared for a big herd of sheep in the field, Cain tried to sustain himself with a garden. He picked every weed, cut thorns, relocated briars. And Cain wanted his parents to see what a good job he was doing. When they complimented Abel’s newborn lambs, Cain would say, “Taste these fresh strawberries.” And when Abel cooked mutton, Cain would say, “How about another slice of tomato?”

Cain competed for his parents’ attention because he was filled with doubts. He was trying so hard to be good, but then he would feel flashes of anger, or sadness, or smell a whiff of lamb and want a bite. And he’d hate himself for these feelings and worry that he wasn’t good enough. And because of his doubts, he desperately wanted to show everyone his good works, and for people to say, “Good job, Cain!” and pat him on the back. Only then would he feel like he was succeeding. Only then would he feel good. But he never felt good enough.

And so he tried harder and harder. He tried to pray more, fast longer, memorize complicated scriptures, and sit perfectly still in church. Because the person he was trying to impress more than his parents or his brother was God himself. And so Cain decided he would get God’s approval in front of everyone so they would all know that he was really, actually a very good guy.

And so when Abel sacrificed another lamb and thanked the lamb for its life and thanked God for the lamb, Cain brought his own offering. But instead of an animal, Cain left out a large cornucopia of fruits, nuts, and vegetables. Their family would soon see that Cain’s offering was so much better, purer, cleaner than Abel’s. So everyone watched as the leaves rustled, the sun dimmed, and a fire came down from heaven, consuming the lamb. But all of Cain’s fruits and vegetables were left untouched.

“It’s okay,” Eve told Cain. “We like your fruits and vegetables.” And she tried to give Cain a hug. But Cain would not let her. Instead, he ran to his room, closed the door, and screamed.

And God came to Cain and told him not to worry so much. “You are trying so hard to be perfect. But all I have asked is for you to be good. And that is hard enough. Because the world is very messy. It is full of hurt and sin and suffering. It is all around you, all the time, and it is powerful. If you face it alone, it will eat you right up like a fire or a hungry lion. And you will become worse and worse. You must let go of perfection. Let go of the world you want and accept the world that is given to you. It is good, and you are good enough.”

But Cain was angry and yelled at God. “If we’re only ‘good enough,’ that’s your fault. You made us this way! It’s not my fault I get tired, or sad, or angry. It’s not my fault I need attention. It’s not my fault I get embarrassed and blush. You made me this way — broken and stupid like your world. It’s all your fault!”

And Cain ran from God. And he grew angrier and angrier and angrier. Angry at God. Angry at his family. Angry at his brother. And angry with himself. Angry at the fallen world. Angry that he couldn’t fix it. And the anger consumed him, eating away at his heart until at last Cain did something worse than he ever could have imagined. He invited his brother into his garden where the vines were overgrown so that no one would see what was about to happen. Then Cain turned and killed Abel and watched his brother’s blood seep into the earth like another slaughtered sheep.

And the blood poisoned the earth so that not even weeds could grow from it. And Cain ran and gagged and cried. And God came to him. “Cain,” God said. “What have you done? This is the worst thing a person can do. You were supposed to care for your brother, not kill him.”

When the family of Adam and Eve found Abel, they gasped. It was the first death and the first murder all in one. And Cain wept and waited for the inevitable. They would come for him. They would seek justice. And they would kill him. He was sure of it. And so he waited. And waited. And wandered and waited. But no one came to kill him. Not his family. Not God. They let him live. And who knows why. But maybe it was because there is already too much hurt and death and brokenness in this world. It is everywhere around us and inside us. There is no avoiding it. You cannot walk without stepping on it, you cannot outrun it or get around it. It is in the air we breathe and the food we eat. So much life has been given so that you and I can live.

That is our reality. But don’t hate yourself for being who you are. Don’t be scared to say “thank you” or “I’m sorry.” Ask for help when you need it. Try to do good, even when you want to do bad. See beauty in the world, even when there is ugliness. And when someone is cruel or mean or worse than you can imagine, try to forgive them and let them live.

You will fail sometimes — often, probably. But be brave, and try again. Do not let your failures consume you. Know that you are crammed, stuffed, bursting with goodness and badness. Know that you are broken and imperfect like the world you live in, and it will take more than a lamb to save you and more than a thousand lambs to fix this world. God himself would have to die. And because he died, you don’t have to be perfect. And because you don’t have to be perfect, you can just try to be good.

To purchase a hard copy of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, visit ForLittleSaints.com

To access the complete audiobook of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, become a Friend of Faith Matters by subscribing at FaithMatters.org/subscribe.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.faithmatters.org/subscribe

1. The beginning of everything (Genesis 1) Jan 04, 2026

Show notes

Genesis 1:31 And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. (KJV)

In the very beginning, there was Nothing. No trees or flowers or rocks or waterfalls or dirt or grass or land or ocean. There weren’t even stars or lights or days or nights or moons or months or years or anything. And God decided to take this Nothing and make . . . well, everything.

God started with an enormous breath. And then he spoke. And his words were deep and sharp and strong like a knife. And they separated one thing from another. He said, “Let there be light,” and the light separated from the darkness. Dark over here. Light over there. And the light and dark grew bigger and fuller and brighter and darker. From the light and the dark, God spoke the sun, the moon, and the stars into being. And God looked at his creations and saw that they were good. And they were.

God spoke again and separated out land, water, and sky. God breathed in, and the land grew, steady, firm and dry. And the water rushed down the land, running and leaping and swirling into rivers and lakes and oceans. And the sky stretched wide like she was just waking up, filling the space with oxygen, wrapping the land and the water with a blanket of air. And God looked at his creations and saw that they were good. And they were.

God breathed in again and spoke. And his voice was like a deep breath, breathing life into the world. And soon there were octopuses and whales and manatees in the ocean. And on land, plants began to grow. And soon animals were crawling, and walking, and running across the earth. Frogs, beetles, bears, tigers, and monkeys. God looked at his creations and saw that they were good. And they were.

On the plains were deer, buffalo, and lions. In the mountains were marmots and pikas and sheep. Trees grew from the ground into forests, and squirrels played in their branches. Soon, the animals leapt into the sky. Owls, bats, and eagles flew over branches and cliffs. Life was spreading and dividing and separating further and further.

God looked at all his creations and saw that they were good. And they were. So good, in fact, that God was ready to put his own children on the earth. And so he took dust from the ground, and he spat on it to make clay. And he formed that clay into a human. And then God took another breath, in and out. And as he breathed out, the human breathed in.

And God called his child Adam. And Adam was happy. Because how could he not be happy amongst all of God’s beautiful, good, lovely creations? He was living in a garden with flowers and enough fruit hanging from the trees to have a picnic every single meal.

Adam woke in the mornings with the sun on his face, and he’d eat grapes and apples and nuts and berries and then swim all day with alligators that didn’t bite or play with lions that didn’t growl, and then he would watch the most marvelous sunsets as he fell asleep.

But then one evening, as the sun was setting, it was even more magnificent than normal. Shafts of yellow and red and even purple dashed across the clouds, and Adam said, “Isn’t that beautiful?” But there was no reply. And that made Adam feel hungry. No, not hungry. It was like hunger but even deeper and sadder. It was not a hunger for food, but for a person. For the first time in the history of the world, a man felt lonely.

And the beauty all around Adam only made his loneliness worse. He wanted to share it with someone. He wanted someone to talk to. Someone to laugh with. Someone to watch sunsets and have picnics with. So that when he said, “Isn’t it beautiful,” they’d respond, “Oh yes, isn’t it!”

And God was watching Adam and knew just what to do. Separating everything was just the beginning of creation. The world he’d made with all its difference and diversity would continue to separate, and splinter, and fall further and further apart into a million-billion-gazillion shattered, lonely, desperate pieces unless it was held together by something.

And so God created another human. This one was a woman named Eve. And God introduced Adam and Eve and explained that they would help hold the universe together. And he taught them what they had to do. “Cling to each other,” he said.

Cling, a definition:

To hold onto something so tightly that you don’t float apart.

And that’s what Adam and Eve did. They clung to each other. They watched sunsets together, they prepared picnics, and when they woke in the morning, they held hands before getting out of bed. It was easy now. They were a new couple. They hadn’t had their first argument, or had babies, or lost jobs, or lived with in-laws, or had anything but perfect days and pleasant weather. They were new to love. They didn’t know how far it could stretch without breaking, how deep it could go without dissolving, how long it could last without expiring.

Some day, they would have to learn all of this. They would learn to love like God loves and to cling like God clings. But while their love was young and inexperienced, it was also precious. And God saw the way they looked at each other and knew that it was good. No, not just good. Very good.

Because the world needed love. And Adam and Eve would have to hold onto each other no matter what happened next. Even if the garden died away and the fruits turned bitter. Even if they got hurt, sad, or injured. Even if they felt scared or alone or confused or didn’t know if they could go on. Even if they fought, or their children died. Even if their world shattered. Even in the face of war and famine and tornado and fire. Even if they grew bored or angry or tired. No matter what, they had to cling to each other and to the world with everything they had. They must love. Their world depended on it.

And someday, Adam and Eve would raise children. And they would teach their children to be clingers, too. To cling to each other and to the world God created. You are one of their children. They have passed this most important job down to you.

You are a clinger. And so when you feel lost or scared or sad, or if it seems like the world is splintering and falling apart, or if you see someone who’s lonely or cast out, do what Adam and Eve learned to do: love. Love each other. Love the world. Love your mother. Love your father. Love your sister and brother. Love your neighbor. Love the refugee. Love the animals and the plants. Love the oceans. Love the sunsets.

Because while the universe was separated by the power of God’s lungs, it is bound together by the gravity of his love. And you are a lover. You are a clinger. And so love on. Cling to each other. And cling to the God who already clings to you. And we will hold the world together.

To purchase a hard copy of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, visit ForLittleSaints.com

To access the complete audiobook of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, become a Friend of Faith Matters by subscribing at FaithMatters.org/subscribe.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.faithmatters.org/subscribe

The Bible Storybook: Foreword Dec 11, 2025

Show notes

You do not have to believe in God to acknowledge how much the Bible has done for this world. From a historical perspective, it shows a group of people who were trying to be good. They were crafting laws to foster morality, aid the poor, and safeguard human dignity even in the most extreme situations. From a literary perspective, it is a masterful collection of poetry, personal essays, sermons, and songs. From a philosophical perspective, it asks all the hard questions about life and about God and comes to various, brilliant, and surprising conclusions. From a religious perspective, it has captured the hearts of billions of people.

And so it is no small thing to decide to retell Bible stories. And even more daunting when we are writing these stories for children, who are both vulnerable and impressionable. And so we want to be clear that our mission was never to produce a work of scholarship. Reading our stories will not teach your children Hebrew or Aramaic. We will not pontificate about the meaning or origins of Elohim. In fact, we mostly avoid dabbling in etymologies or exegesis. We were not even particularly careful to be historically accurate. In fact, we intentionally use playful anachronisms, like Abraham and Sarah packing their things into moving boxes. We do this to help make the ancient world feel familiar to children. In short, we are not attempting to give an authoritative, scientific, or historical gloss to these stories.

Instead of explaining the stories, we have tried to tell them, and to tell them beautifully. We hope it will help bring them to life in new ways for both you and your child. Of course, we couldn’t tell every story in the Bible. It’s a big book, and every history is layered with histories. But the stories we do tell aren’t just the simple ones with easy, happy endings. Instead, what you will find in these pages are moments of tenderness, injustice, triumph, failure, deep sorrow, radical hope, and God’s enduring love — much like what you will find across the pages of your own life.

And while people have argued over biblical interpretations for thousands of years, we are not entering that arena. We are not trying to indoctrinate or convert children to a particular faith beyond general Christianity. And while we do practice a specific form of Christianity ourselves, we see these stories as a shared treasure. And we hope to contribute to the millions of artists before us who have praised God with their words and chords and colors. Artists whose work is shared by Catholics and Protestants, Copts and Mormons, Baptists and Evangelicals alike.

There is a chance that some of these stories will surprise you. But the Bible is full of surprises. And you might see new sides of old characters and find fresh possibilities in familiar readings. However, if you think we got something wrong or took too much liberty, go ahead and tell your children the story as you understand it. You won’t hurt our feelings. This is about you and them. These stories are successful when they create a moment of grace, where both parents and children feel that tickling, that warmth, that whispering of the spirit at the very same time. And you can tell them what it is. Or, more accurately, who.

To purchase a hard copy of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, visit ForLittleSaints.com

To access the complete audiobook of The Bible Storybook: The Old Testament, become a Friend of Faith Matters by subscribing at FaithMatters.org/subscribe.

Because the stories are written in chronological order and the Bible is not, we will release some stories before they come up in Come, Follow Me. Below is a schedule of which episodes to listen to each week, if you’d like to use this along with Come, Follow Me.

January 12-18 (Genesis 1-2; Moses 2-3; Abraham 4-5)

1. The beginning of everything (Genesis 1)

2. The Bitter, Tasty, Forbidden Fruit (Genesis 2-3)

January 19-25 (Genesis 3-4; Moses 4-5)

2. The Bitter, Tasty, Forbidden Fruit (Genesis 2-3)

3. Cain, who was a perfectionist (Genesis 4)

February 9-15 (Genesis 6-11; Moses 8)

4. Noah, the man who saved things (Genesis 6-9)

5. The people who tried to climb to heaven (Genesis 11)

February 16-22 (Genesis 12-17; Abraham 1-2)

6. The man who learned to be generous (Genesis 12)

7. The followers and their promise (Genesis 12-15)

8. The God who sees (Genesis 16)

9. Son of laughter (Genesis 17-21)

February 23-March 1 (Genesis 18-23)

9. Son of laughter (Genesis 17-21)

10. The boy who lived (Genesis 21)

11. Lot and his wife and their daughters (Genesis 18-19)

12. The sacrifice (Genesis 18-22)

13. Finding a wife (Genesis 23-24)

March 2-8 (Genesis 24-33)

13. Finding a wife (Genesis 23-24)

14. The world in Rebekah’s belly (Genesis 25)

15. The amazing, goodlooking, athletic brother (Genesis 25-33)

16. Jacob, who traveled through time and wrestled an angel (Genesis 28-35)

17. Two sisters, a lot of babies, and their strange names (Genesis 29-30)

March 9-15 (Genesis 37-41)

18. Band of brothers (Genesis 35-45)

March 16-22 (Genesis 42-50)

18. Band of brothers (Genesis 35-45)

19. Giving food and taking dignity (Genesis 46 - Exodus 1)

March 23-29 (Exodus 1-6)

19. Giving food and taking dignity (Genesis 46 - Exodus 1)

20. A conspiracy of women to save the boys (Exodus 1-2)

21. Moses, who learned he had power (Exodus 2-4)

22. The freedom plan (Exodus 5-15)

April 6-12 (Exodus 7-13)

22. The freedom plan (Exodus 5-15)

April 13-19 (Exodus 14-18)

22. The freedom plan (Exodus 5-15)

23. A new law and a new king (Exodus 16-40)

April 20-26 (Exodus 19-20; 24; 31-34)

23. A new law and a new king (Exodus 16-40)

April 27-May 3 (Exodus 35-40; Leviticus 1; 4; 16; 19)

23. A new law and a new king (Exodus 16-40)

24. The sin eaters (Leviticus)

May 4-10 (Numbers 11-14; 20-24; 27)

25. Moses’ 70 helpers (Numbers 9-11)

26. All of God’s children are prophets (Numbers 11-20)

May 11-17 (Deuteronomy 6-8; 15; 18; 29-30; 34)

27: Moses gives advice and says goodbye (Deuteronomy)

May 18-24 (Joshua 1-8; 23-24)

28: The conquest (Joshua-Judges 16)

May 25-31 (Judges 2-4; 6-8; 13-16)

28: The conquest (Joshua-Judges 16)

June 1-7 (Ruth; 1 Samuel 1-7)

29: Ruth, who lost a husband and gained a family (Ruth)

June 8-14 (1 Samuel 8-10; 13; 15-16)

30: The first king (Judges 19 - 1 Samuel 10)

31: The king who trusted a shepherd (1 Samuel 10-17)

June 15-21 (1 Samuel 17-18; 24-26; 2 Samuel 5-7)

32. Two boys who decided to be brothers (1 Samuel 18-20)

33. David faces another giant (1 Samuel 22 - 2 Samuel, Psalms)

June 22-28 (2 Samuel 11-12; 1 Kings 3; 6-9; 11)

33. David faces another giant (1 Samuel 22 - 2 Samuel, Psalms)

34. Solomon who was less remarkable than a lily (1 Kings 2-11; Proverbs; Ecclesiastes)

June 29-July 5 (1 Kings 12-13; 17-22)

35. A man and a woman whose miracles ran out (1 Kings 12-17)

36: Elisha, who was nobody (1 Kings 19 - 2 Kings 2)

July 6-12 (2 Kings 2-7)

36: Elisha, who was nobody (1 Kings 19 - 2 Kings 2)

37. A little girl without a name (2 Kings 5)

38. More with us (2 Kings 6)

July 13-19 (2 Kings 16-25)

42. Hezekiah, the man who fought for today (2 Kings 18-20; Isaiah 36-39)

July 27-August 2 (Ezra 1; 3-7; Nehemiah 2; 4-6; 8)

49. The Rebuilders and The Remained (Ezra; Nehemiah)

August 3-9 (Esther)

48. The queen of Persia (Esther)

August 10-16 (Job 1-3; 12-14; 19; 21-24; 38-40; 42)

46. A story about a man called Job (Job)

August 17-23 (Psalms 1-2; 8; 19-33; 40; 46)

33. David faces another giant (1 Samuel 22 - 2 Samuel, Psalms)

August 24-30 (Psalms 49-51; 61-66; 69-72; 77-78; 85-86)

33. David faces another giant (1 Samuel 22 - 2 Samuel, Psalms)

August 31-September 6 (Psalms 102-3; 110; 116-19; 127-28; 135-39; 146-50)

33. David faces another giant (1 Samuel 22 - 2 Samuel, Psalms)

September 7-13 (Proverbs 1-4; 15-16; 22; 31; Ecclesiastes 1-3; 11-12)

34. Solomon who was less remarkable than a lily (1 Kings 2-11; Proverbs; Ecclesiastes)

September 14-20 (Isaiah 1-12)

40. What the prophets said (Isaiah; Amos; Micah; Joel)

43. Isaiah and the new city called Zion (Isaiah)

September 21-27 (Isaiah 13-14; 22; 24-30; 35)

40. What the prophets said (Isaiah; Amos; Micah; Joel)

42. Hezekiah, the man who fought for today (2 Kings 18-20; Isaiah 36-39)

43. Isaiah and the new city called Zion (Isaiah)

September 28-October 4 (Isaiah 40-49)

40. What the prophets said (Isaiah; Amos; Micah; Joel)

43. Isaiah and the new city called Zion (Isaiah)

October 5-11 (Isaiah 50-57)

40. What the prophets said (Isaiah; Amos; Micah; Joel)

43. Isaiah and the new city called Zion (Isaiah)

October 12-18 (Isaiah 58-66)

40. What the prophets said (Isaiah; Amos; Micah; Joel)

43. Isaiah and the new city called Zion (Isaiah)

October 19-25 (Jeremiah 1-3; 7; 16-18; 20)

44. Jeremiah and the rich who became poor and the poor who became rich (Jeremiah)

October 26-November 1 (Jeremiah 31-33; 36-38; Lamentations 1; 3)

44. Jeremiah and the rich who became poor and the poor who became rich (Jeremiah)

November 2-8 (Ezekiel 1-3; 33-34; 36-37; 47)

45. The dreamer, playwright, poet, artist, Ezekiel (Ezekiel)

November 9-15 (Daniel 1-7)

47. The memory keepers (Daniel)

November 16-22 (Hosea 1-6; 10-14; Joel)

40. What the prophets said (Isaiah; Amos; Micah; Joel)

41. Hosea and his strange marriage advice (Hosea)

November 23-29 (Amos; Obadiah; Jonah)

39. Jonah and the whale and the bush (Jonah)

40. What the prophets said (Isaiah; Amos; Micah; Joel)

November 30-December 6 (Micah; Nahum; Habakkuk; Zephaniah)

40. What the prophets said (Isaiah; Amos; Micah; Joel)

December 7-13 (Haggai 1-2; Zechariah 1-4; 7-14)

50. Healing in his wings (Zachariah; Malachi)

December 14-20 (Malachi)

50. Healing in his wings (Zachariah; Malachi)

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.faithmatters.org/subscribe

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