Sunday, November 29, 2009

Never Ending Story

"Your lives are a letter written in our hearts; everyone can read it and recognize our good work among you. Clearly, you are a letter from Christ showing the result of our ministry among you. This 'letter' is written not with pen and ink, but with the Spirit of the living God. It is carved not on tablets of stone, but on human hearts." 2 Corinthians 2:2-3

It's funny the things that can get me reminiscing about the past. All of a sudden an aroma, a word, a song, a touch invades my thoughts and my mind drifts back to a memory held forever captive in my heart. That happened the other night for me.

I was watching a movie when an event depicted had me journeying back to a moment in my childhood. The Mom portrayed in this film was explaining to her adopted, illiterate daughter the joy of reading. My heart beat quicker with each adjective. I was one who lost herself in books as a child.

My parents took my sister and I to the Children's Library every Saturday and I can recall the anticipation of choosing stories that would transport me to another world. A land where I would become heroine - a girl of outstanding nobility and courage. I would travel to exotic places. Slay dragons. Capture thieves. Love and be loved.

I'd close my eyes and breathe in the scent of books. I would come home from the Library with my treasure, my arms holding hours of wonder and adventure. I would inhale each word. Let the book become a part of me. I would laugh, cry, turn pages in eager anticipation. I would read by flashlight under the covers when bedtime came too early and a tale still had to be told before this little girl could close her eyes and rest.

I've had a passion for words all my life. Watching "The Music Man" at every opportunity, I dreamed of becoming "Marion the Librarian". I wanted to surround myself with sentences, phrases, conjunctions, dotted "i's" and crossed "t's". Should a handsome man find me there, amongst the pages, as one found Marion, that would be wonderful too.

My dream became reality almost 30 years ago when my first job was working as a Library Clerk at a Children's Library. I thoroughly enjoyed each day of the twelve years I was employed there. In between doing the clerical jobs that were my responsibility, I was able to share my passion of the written word with children. Storytimes and reading clubs allowed me to remain a child myself, far past what the years would allow, opening up the hearts of children to the delight of reading.

The other day I purchased a new book - a Bible study. I lingered over the artists cover design. I opened it so carefully as if holding gold, turning each page tenderly, feasting on the truths unveiled. The Scripture passages take me down roads, into far away towns. I share in the lives of Kings and paupers. I weep with those who weep and laugh with those who laugh. I read of great joys and unbearable sorrows. I meet a baby whose birth has changed my life forever.

Then, this Author, who holds pen over my life, continues to write sentences over me. Sentences will become paragraphs. Paragraphs becoming chapters. A never-ending story that will continue for all eternity. Do the pages of my life rise as a sweet aroma to Christ? (2 Corinthians 2:15) My life is to be a letter from Christ, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on the tablet of a human heart.

Tomorrow is a blank page, a clean slate. Words wait to be written. An award winning novel, a best seller, a captivating love story between a Princess and her King. Your life is the most beautiful story being written. Surrender to His plot. Trust His conclusion. I can guarantee it will be happily every after!

(As an aside, my son's school is presenting "The Music Man" as their musical this year. My son is playing the keyboard part in the Pit Band. As I listen to him practice, the music is stirring so many memories. Can't wait to see the production in the Spring.)

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~Grace and Peace said...

I'm reminded of the epitaph Ben Franlin composed when he was a young man:

The body of B. Franklin, Printer
(Like the Cover of an Old Book
Its Contents torn Out
And Stript of its Lettering and Gilding)
Lies Here, Food for Worms.
But the Work shall not be Lost;
For it will (as he Believ'd) Appear once More
In a New and More Elegant Edition
Revised and Corrected
By the Author.

Unreasonable Grace said...

I, too, have always been a lover of books, and sigh with delight when coming across a craftily-turned phase.

I also sighed with delight thinking about my Author - writing MY story! I love the way you wrote that.


Marilyn in Mississippi said...

I, like you, was (an am) an avid reader since I first learned how to read! My children are all the same way. And "The Music Man" was a favorite of my daughter's when she was a teenager!

Thanks for the memories today! Mississippi