Reading Between the Lines

Before the world got too fast, I used to read. A lot. Boy, I loved to read. My best reading memories conjure up titles such as Hank the Cowdog, Stellaluna, The Box-car Children, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Later years included The Grapes of Wrath, The Poisonwood Bible and The Scarlet Letter. Lately I've been reading a lot of Christian books about theology, faith and life-applications.

A few days ago, I picked up a book I had heard a lot about. I just finished it. It was a novel. A pretty good one, too, save a few world-views I don't agree with (ha, of course).

I hate finishing books. When I begin a story, I feel excited and anxious, my mind running a thousand miles per minute, wondering what the future holds. As I near the end, my left hand holding the majority of the pages, it's like sand running through my hands. I try to hold on, but inevitably it all disappears between my fingers.

Sometimes, I get so deep into a book that I expect to run into the characters in real life. I'll turn a corner and wonder if I'll see Aslan sauntering down an alleyway, or Hester Prynne clutching Pearl to her bosom. It's a bit disappointing to pull myself back into this reality, when it's so much easier to lose myself in someone else's.

I feel a bit like a god when reading a book. I hold a character's life in the palms of my hands. I can stop, rewind, or skip their existence as I wish. The only problem is that I can't intervene. I can't talk to the characters and influence their decisions. I may be able to see what's going to happen if they choose one path, but my words cannot change the outcome of their lives, already written in deep black. But what if I could?

What if I could, with my words, create an existence? Fashion the very world of a living, breathing character--form her from my image? And what if I gave her a will of her own, so that she had a choice of what the next chapter would hold, rather than live in a dead-end of forced existence? And what if she made the wrong choices? What would I do? I once wrote a poem as I pondered the very thing...

The Blue Pearl, by Josmery Ramirez

If I could hold the world and see it shining blue,

Would I not then create mankind to see it with me too?

If man could only know me as but a mystery,

Would I not then give up my crown to die in misery?

What wisdom can account for the blooming of a flow'r

Poisoned with the darkness of unseen evil's pow'r?

Only one man's existence epitomized such gift,

Yet blood-stained cloths wrapped 'round His cheek, betrayed by bitter kiss.

No image can be conjured to do justice to that day

When Jesus hung on splintered wood..

All but His sins to pay.

Oh, Lord, what price to pay!

Now I am giv'n the honor to know Him as my own.

Will I not then share His red blood with all of those I know?

If I should have such privilage, yet speak nor live in Light,

Could I then dare to hope to see the King in all His might?

What wisdom can account for the wilting of a flow'r

But man's denial of Him who sends grace down like healing show'rs?

His mercy falls as raindrops, cov'ring all flow'rs with dew.

Praise evermore the God of Love holding this pearl of blue!

You know, the only book that doesn't slip between my fingertips is the very same book that holds the entire world's existence between its pages. The cool thing is...the story never ends.