Book Stores

Picture it: She stands, hands in the pockets of her slightly worn jeans, shoulders drawn up toward her ears not because it's cold, but because she is deep in thought. Her brow crinkles unconsciously (made possible by the corrugator muscle) as she stands facing the vastness of it all and considers just where to begin. Yes, she is planted in the entryway to fantasy, reality, heartache, love, relationship, joy, scholarship, leadership (it's starting to sound like an almamader's mission statement), and coffee; she is standing in a book store.
What is this young gal processing beneath the mop of curly locks? Let me tell you. She is first of all overwhelmed by the sheer volume of what is presented to her. She is debating in her head that it really can't be as hard as the writers complain it is to get your scribbles published in book form, just one look tells her millions have done it. A second closer look tells her, many shouldn't have made it to these shelves...seems like they'll let anyone write these days. Now, a layer deeper and we see the wheels turning; which shall she choose to read. With all the choices, this is no small matter. A glance at the new releases...too new and popular she thinks. She considers now the classics, paperback, buy 2 get the third free...not enough time to truly enjoy them, but some day she promises herself...they have made it this long, they'll still be there in two to three years. Next, she strolls to the poetry section, one she has not ventured into before...Shakespeare huh...sonnets, rhythms, allegories, symbolism...not a literature major she decides. She is drawn as always to the all familiar religion section. Christian living follows the myriad of Bibles, who needs all these Bibles on a shelf she wonders and thinks of all the little hearts that need them instead. Fiction, she finds the book recommended to her and holds on for fear that if she sets it down it might get lost among the masses of books all with catchy covers and colors to attract the eye and mind. How long has it been? How many ticks of the clock have passed since she entered this world of imagination? No matter, she now understands how there are so many tales of creatures that live in old libraries and people that are lost for days on end in these "novelty stores that are overstocked and full of ignorant sales people" - You've Got Mail. Ahh...at last, her eye catches the section that puts an instant smile on her face and causes the creased brow to melt into those now wide eyes full of innocence and light. She has entered the enchanted forest, the place where little humans come to learn and discover and create; she is in the children's section. Her eyes bounce around to absorb this little oasis full of color and life. It is bright and cheerful, unlike the rest of the store; it has potential. The little legs and lost shoes that clutter the aisles here are welcome, no one is looked down upon for picking out a book and sitting as is on the carpet, actually she believes it should be encouraged. This newfound little girl finds the classics and reminisces on the night time readings when it was her and mom and they took turns who got to read the next one. She picks up a new one that looks promising and turns the pages full of anticipation to find where they were going and who was leaving the tracks in the snow. She admits to no one that she figured out the end before it got there; she doesn't want to ruin the story for others. (not like it was 3 year old level anyway) As she places this back on the shelf she feels satisfied, her inner child is quenched for yet another day. One more 360 glance around the tiers of books before heading to the checkout line to be scanned and bought like any other good citizen. She heads out the door more quickly than she arrived, not in relief so much as in anticipation of cracking the binding on this man's life and joining him along his journey.

Epilogue: This story, though not fully true, is not fully false...what would you call that...a story:)
But in all seriousness the book, The Shack by William Young is a must read. You will smile, you will cry, you will sit in silence after reading the final words and contemplate in wonder of God.