The Gift of Reading
I've been a book lover since as early as I can remember. In third grade I was chided by my parents for reading Frank Peretti's supernatural thriller, This Present Darkness, a near 400 page fiction book, because of the nightmares it was causing. This warning, however, hardly stopped me. I went on to read the sequel, equally as long, and the next book he had written as well, The Prophet, all in the course of a few weeks.
Sometimes my hunger for literature would fix upon unusual selections, like the ones above, and other times on adolescent favorites, like the My Teacher Is An Alien series, or Roald Dahl's Matilda. No matter the particular book in view, I vividly remember coming home from school only to plop down on my bed at 3:30 and devour page after page until dinner time, and sometimes until bedtime. (Nobody told me that this was nerdy behavior; it was simply what I loved, and my social status at private school didn't seem to be affected by it.)
At high school, though, coincidentally alongside the loss of my spiritual life, I forgot about books and became much more concerned with friends, music, sports, and my own reputation. Besides required reading (which I usually skimmed to finish the homework as quickly as possible), this remained the case until my first year of community college when I was suddenly afflicted with mononucleosis. Down for the count, and sleeping up to 16 hours a day, I turned to reading again as a comfort in those lonely days. With book in hands, a cup of tea on the nightstand, and my faithful rottweiler lying dutifully beside me, I read a strange combination of books, including The Stand, an 1,000 page epic by Stephen King, and then C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity as an unlikely follow-up.
My book fetish took a turn after a spiritual awakening the following year. My hunger for reading in general was transformed into a hunger for God Himself, and reading became a delightful way to satiate that desire. My reading selection turned essentially Christian. Brennan Manning, John Eldredge, Philip Yancey, and Sam Storms became my good friends in my first years walking with God.
And so it was that I recovered my introverted self and continued to know God more, live the adventure of faith, and dabble in all kinds of Christian writings along the way for the next six years. I thirsted for spiritual knowledge as intently as I had relished the imaginative worlds of the books of my childhood. This hobby was quite natural during both of my college stints, but it felt like more of an anomaly during my years at discipleship school in my hometown. I constantly felt apologetic whenever my gaze turned downward to the paperback in front of me. At times I was accused of being antisocial or independent, but looking back, I don't have any regrets. For the most part, the culture of 20 year olds in our nation is suffocatingly social, and I think my desire for study probably brought more of a healthy balance than danger.
Then a few years later, Lyme Disease happened. The merciless bacteria went for my brain, and I found it extremely difficult to read, or even concentrate on one thing for that matter. For months, even years, a fog settled in over my cognitive processes, and I started to realize what a gift it actually was to be able to think clearly, speak without stuttering, and read for pleasure. I did still read the Bible, but I did so out of a continuing spiritual desperation for God, not merely to pass the time. It was difficult, and not fun like it used to be.
During this season I was still attempting to finish my master's degree. I remember calling my friend at one point, literally in tears, because I couldn't read one of the required books for my class. No matter how hard I tried, or how many "brain supplements" I took, I couldn't seem to understand or retain the information. Something I loved so much had been stolen from me, and I was despairing on the inside.
Thankfully, during the healing journey of the past 5 years the neurological symptoms have cleared a bit. While I am not able to think, speak, or read in my old capacity, I am still able to do all three of those things without despair. Even with pleasure again, many times. And for that, I am so grateful.
One of the happy aspects of my new home and schedule in Grover Beach has been the opportunity to read more. I am finding the same thrill and satisfaction that I used to get in finding a new book, finishing one, and sampling multiple ones in the bookstore. Mostly, they are spiritual ones, as I still possess an insatiable desire to know this God who has created and loved me.
I can't tell you how exciting it is to be able to sit down in my room with the wisest and most articulate people in the world. What a gift it is to read! And how tragic when we neglect it. In favor of social media, TV and movies, and hangouts with friends we leave piles of unopened blessings on our coffee tables and bookshelves. We live in a generation of unprecedented amounts of available information, and yet many of us choose to partake in this new found information by soaking in the brainless dung of cheap reality shows and superficial magazines about sex and movie stars.
Most sacred, though, is the availability of God's Word in this hour in our nation. For over a millennium of church history Bibles were not available to the common man. Even now, many nations have bans and restrictions on God's Word, and only fragments are smuggled in at great peril.
Yet the average family owns three Bibles in our nation, and most of us do not actually take the time to read it. A poll taken by the Pew Forum on Religious and Public Life stated that half of the Christians surveyed could not name the four Gospels.
Reading is a gift, especially the greatest words ever written - God's Word. I, for one, am ecstatic to take Peter up on his admonition: "For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge..." (2 Peter 1:5) I believe it is this knowledge of truth, found primarily in the Bible and then secondarily in so many other great works, that will inspire us to be who we are meant to be, and then go on to reach out and change the world.
Sometimes my hunger for literature would fix upon unusual selections, like the ones above, and other times on adolescent favorites, like the My Teacher Is An Alien series, or Roald Dahl's Matilda. No matter the particular book in view, I vividly remember coming home from school only to plop down on my bed at 3:30 and devour page after page until dinner time, and sometimes until bedtime. (Nobody told me that this was nerdy behavior; it was simply what I loved, and my social status at private school didn't seem to be affected by it.)
At high school, though, coincidentally alongside the loss of my spiritual life, I forgot about books and became much more concerned with friends, music, sports, and my own reputation. Besides required reading (which I usually skimmed to finish the homework as quickly as possible), this remained the case until my first year of community college when I was suddenly afflicted with mononucleosis. Down for the count, and sleeping up to 16 hours a day, I turned to reading again as a comfort in those lonely days. With book in hands, a cup of tea on the nightstand, and my faithful rottweiler lying dutifully beside me, I read a strange combination of books, including The Stand, an 1,000 page epic by Stephen King, and then C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity as an unlikely follow-up.
My book fetish took a turn after a spiritual awakening the following year. My hunger for reading in general was transformed into a hunger for God Himself, and reading became a delightful way to satiate that desire. My reading selection turned essentially Christian. Brennan Manning, John Eldredge, Philip Yancey, and Sam Storms became my good friends in my first years walking with God.
And so it was that I recovered my introverted self and continued to know God more, live the adventure of faith, and dabble in all kinds of Christian writings along the way for the next six years. I thirsted for spiritual knowledge as intently as I had relished the imaginative worlds of the books of my childhood. This hobby was quite natural during both of my college stints, but it felt like more of an anomaly during my years at discipleship school in my hometown. I constantly felt apologetic whenever my gaze turned downward to the paperback in front of me. At times I was accused of being antisocial or independent, but looking back, I don't have any regrets. For the most part, the culture of 20 year olds in our nation is suffocatingly social, and I think my desire for study probably brought more of a healthy balance than danger.
Then a few years later, Lyme Disease happened. The merciless bacteria went for my brain, and I found it extremely difficult to read, or even concentrate on one thing for that matter. For months, even years, a fog settled in over my cognitive processes, and I started to realize what a gift it actually was to be able to think clearly, speak without stuttering, and read for pleasure. I did still read the Bible, but I did so out of a continuing spiritual desperation for God, not merely to pass the time. It was difficult, and not fun like it used to be.
During this season I was still attempting to finish my master's degree. I remember calling my friend at one point, literally in tears, because I couldn't read one of the required books for my class. No matter how hard I tried, or how many "brain supplements" I took, I couldn't seem to understand or retain the information. Something I loved so much had been stolen from me, and I was despairing on the inside.
Thankfully, during the healing journey of the past 5 years the neurological symptoms have cleared a bit. While I am not able to think, speak, or read in my old capacity, I am still able to do all three of those things without despair. Even with pleasure again, many times. And for that, I am so grateful.
One of the happy aspects of my new home and schedule in Grover Beach has been the opportunity to read more. I am finding the same thrill and satisfaction that I used to get in finding a new book, finishing one, and sampling multiple ones in the bookstore. Mostly, they are spiritual ones, as I still possess an insatiable desire to know this God who has created and loved me.
I can't tell you how exciting it is to be able to sit down in my room with the wisest and most articulate people in the world. What a gift it is to read! And how tragic when we neglect it. In favor of social media, TV and movies, and hangouts with friends we leave piles of unopened blessings on our coffee tables and bookshelves. We live in a generation of unprecedented amounts of available information, and yet many of us choose to partake in this new found information by soaking in the brainless dung of cheap reality shows and superficial magazines about sex and movie stars.
Most sacred, though, is the availability of God's Word in this hour in our nation. For over a millennium of church history Bibles were not available to the common man. Even now, many nations have bans and restrictions on God's Word, and only fragments are smuggled in at great peril.
Yet the average family owns three Bibles in our nation, and most of us do not actually take the time to read it. A poll taken by the Pew Forum on Religious and Public Life stated that half of the Christians surveyed could not name the four Gospels.
Reading is a gift, especially the greatest words ever written - God's Word. I, for one, am ecstatic to take Peter up on his admonition: "For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge..." (2 Peter 1:5) I believe it is this knowledge of truth, found primarily in the Bible and then secondarily in so many other great works, that will inspire us to be who we are meant to be, and then go on to reach out and change the world.
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