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"What are you going to do with them?" his neighbor, Sarah, asked, peering over a wall of faux-leather covers.

By the time the last box was opened, Elias’s apartment felt strangely empty. He looked at the spot where the bedside table used to be. He didn't need the bulk anymore. He just needed one copy—the one where Marcus had sketched a blueprint for a new beginning on the very last page. buy bibles in bulk

The next week, Marcus showed Elias a page. He hadn’t read the verses; he had drawn over them. He used the narrow margins to sketch intricate designs of chairs and tables—the things he wanted to build again. "What are you going to do with them

"I tried returning them," Elias said, leaning against a stack of NIVs. "The shipping cost more than the books. I’m a librarian of a very specific, very repetitive library." "Give them away," she suggested. He didn't need the bulk anymore

"I'm not much of a reader," Marcus said, turning the gold-edged pages. "But the paper in these... it's thin. Good for sketching."

The delivery driver had laughed when he saw the single-room apartment. Elias hadn’t laughed. He had spent forty-eight hours wondering if he could be sued for "accidental evangelism" on a massive scale.

But it wasn't until he met a man named Marcus that the boxes started to feel less like a mistake. Marcus was a carpenter who had lost his shop in a fire. He sat on a bench outside Elias's building every day. One afternoon, Elias handed him a copy.