Reading

I was always a voracious reader. I was typically bored to tears with school. I could pretty much sleep through class while getting perfect scores. I realized this at a very young age, I was in kindergarten. My mother said I was a born skeptic and, frankly, being told I would learn what I needed in life at school was quickly disproved by my experiences.

One of the first issues I had at school was with reading. I hit an annoying wall with our elementary school librarian. Policy dictated that I was only allowed to borrow books from the children's section until 2^nd or 3^rd grade. Picture books and pages graced with no more than five words were the only offerings there. I longed to be allowed into the young section. Each time I drifted over, I would be redirected. I complained to my folks. My mom responded by taking me to the local library. I ran into much of the same problem. There were more books of a higher level of reading comprehension available but they didn't last long either.

Then my dad came to my rescue.

He gave me his library card.

The words to explain how I felt at that moment are inadequate. In my little hands I knew I held the key to worlds far beyond my imagination. I suddenly had the freedom to fly to the moon if I wanted.

I walked into that library with my head held high. With proud steps I approached the previously forbidden sections.

The first book I chose was The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom.

It was one of three or four books I checked out that week. I do not recall the titles of the others. It was this book that left a lasting impression. I was eight.

I didn't completely understand it all. Not really. There are things that while you may comprehend you don't fully feel until you have certain experiences. Ms. Ten Boom relates the story of watching a mother being forced to choose between her two children. The mother knew that the one she did not choose would be sent to the gas chambers. She also knew that if she did not choose, both children would go.

She sent the girl to die. In her heart, I am sure she thought she was saving her physically weaker child from a horrible death. Unfortunately, her strong son became sick and died just weeks later.

I'm a mom of five now. That story rips out my heart in ways that as a child I couldn't understand.

The book also relates how strong her sister's faith was. She never once seemed to falter even when she was dreadfully ill. You can hear the awe in Corrie Ten Boom's voice as she tells of her sister's insistence to give, help, serve the others in the concentration camp.

The book also follows as her father attempts to stand up to the encroaching Nazism. The reader watches as the rights of the Jewish people are slowly taken from them.

Needless to say, a child may not fully comprehend the cascade of events but as I have aged, I tend to look at the broader range picture of things that go on in the world around us. Seeing the big picture can be distressing.

When it comes to things like the healthcare law that passed a couple of years ago, all I can see is where it will end. That is a truly horrible place that I can't even express in words.

When it comes to where the educational system went wrong, I see the beginning as the moment the Bible lost its proper place at the center of all learning. Civilization begins to crumble without a purposeful, moral compass.

When I look at evolutionary theory, I see that the only conclusion is that we are hopeless mistakes of a useless chaotic accident.

When I look to God, I see joy, grace, love, purpose, belonging, oh the words can not dare touch the amazement!