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Page After Page

I am in this reading mood where I can't seem to read enough. All I have done since my honeymoon is read every chance I get. With not working right now, you would think I would have hours and hours to read. But with learning to manage and maintain a new house, helping with church Vacation Bible School, traveling for receptions and youth events, substituting at the church daycare... my days fill up pretty quick and my reading time starts to disappear. But evenings have proven to be good to me. I have been able to read for a while in the evenings while my husband sits and listens to baseball or works on budgets/bills. I read Candide by Voltaire last week in two days and I just finished The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett in three days. But I still just can't get enough reading in my life I feel like.

It's not a new feeling/desire to me. For as long as I can remember I have always loved and longed to fill my hours lost in the pages of a book. I have always found myself more at home among books and characters (whether fictional or non-fictional) than anywhere else. I have written before about my shy, introverted personality. And through college I did a pretty good job of suppressing that and becoming more of a people person. But now that I have a new home of my own, live in a new town and attend a new church where everyone is unknown to me (not to mention living nearly 6 hours away from my family)... I am finding myself retreating every chance I get. I know that's not necessarily a good thing to do, but I just can't help it. That's just who I am and how I have always done it. My husband had already been working at the church for a month before I got here and I've really only been there once since we got married (other than our VBS week). So he already knows people and is comfortable with things here. I am not. And so books are my comfort. They are my escape. And I just can't get enough of them.

When I was reading Candide, I was so not amused or captivated by it one bit. I was frustrated to be honest and really wanted to just through the book across the room more than once. But it was the complete opposite with The Secret Garden. I just didn't want to put it down and I couldn't help but read it quickly. My parents own the movie on VHS and I remember watching it all the time when I was little. But I had never read the book. I don't really know why. I just never did. And let me just say that I am so glad that I finally did. With having seen the movie, I get imagine the characters even more than with other books. I could hear their voices as they spoke Yorkshire. I could imagine their facial expressions and their mannerisms. The story came to life even more than normal for me as I read. I laughed at loud at various points (ask my husband... he will tell you!) and couldn't help but shake my head at other points because of the silliness of Colin and Mary. I fell in love with the secret garden and the peace that it brought. And I thought about the Magic that Colin was so touched by and how for me the Magic is not magic, but rather it's the powerful working of GOD, the LORD of all. HE is the healer. HE is the one who brings about peace and encouragement and renewal and healing. HE is the one who repairs and renews relationships. HE is the one who gives us strength and opportunities for things to change and grow in our lives. HE is not magic. HE is GOD. And that just brought a smile to my face as I finished the last page and closed the book at the end.

I may be shy and introverted and extremely overwhelmed by life right now. And I may be finding every chance possible to escape into the pages of a book. I may have this unsatisfied hunger for words, plots and characters. And that's okay. It's not a bad thing. It's just a part of who I am and how I cope. And I don't see that changing anytime soon!

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