Good books are funny things, the way they mess with my mind. I read and read and become so engrossed in this other world that sometimes I feel as if when I re-enter the real world, I haven't fully come back. I'm still in the characters' heads or I view my world through a mask of the pages I've been pouring over.
For example, right now I'm reading the Hunger Games series and this morning I started the second book. I am already one third of the way through. Even though I've seen the movie and the two are quite similar, I soak in the experience of it all by reading. I get into the thoughts of Katniss. I feel what she feels. There are characters that I love or hate, ones that make me laugh or roll my eyes. I get stuck in the world of Panem and the horror the Capital brings on the people. Today after reading for a good three hours or so, I went to babysit. Having just been yanked out of a particularly high-stress part of the book (in the middle of a chapter, no less), I was still caught up in it. I couldn't stop thinking about what is happening now, what will happen next, when I'll get to start the third book, and how that will end.
Endings. That's another thing about books. They end. I pour through and through the pages and become so caught up in this world for days, until it ends. I can't wait to get to the last page because then I'll know what happens. Is it a happily ever after or a tragedy? Will I love it or hate it? Will I want to read it all over again? I feel like I'm never satisfied at the end. I want to stay in this other world. I want to continue to live life with these characters, to think and feel with them. But it always ends and I'm always forced back into real life.
(As I type, I'm beginning to wonder if you're beginning to think I have a strange, unhealthy obsession with books and the worlds created by their authors. If you are very concerned, you might already be planning an intervention and take away my books (please don't do that...and I do have a library card, you know). And I do admit, sometimes I worry myself. But if you are a reader, you will understand. I don't know if it sometimes acts as an escape from what I know or if I simply get caught up in good literature, but it can be addicting. Despite your present concern for me, I am getting somewhere with all of this.)
As I was driving to pick up a little girl from school today and thinking about all these things, I began to wonder if God might be jealous. Is this how He meant the Bible to be read? Does he desire me to pour over the pages of His Word endlessly, never desiring to put it down? I should seek the pages of the Bible for stories of the characters, knowing them and loving them, getting to know the character of God more and more intimately. My view of my world should be through the lens of the Bible, the reality of His Word consuming my reality entirely. And the best part? There is no end to His book. Sure, there's Revelation. But there's really no end. I am a part of His story; in actuality, not in pretend or somewhere in the depths of my mind. His Word IS my life. And my life is in His words. I really can live and breathe these words, these true characters, this relationship.
So there you have it. I confess, I am itching to get back to "Catching Fire". And there's no shame in reading a good book for hours, if you've got the time. I do thank God for good literature. But I must always remember that when I re-enter life from the pages of a mere book, I enter into something far more grand, exciting, and eternal than anything a book could offer. I am a character in the Ultimate Story itself. And I better live the part.
"The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever."
Isaiah 40:8
