If you need to one thing about me, it would be this: I love to read.
My love started with a couldn’t. I have distinct memories of my p’s, q’s, b’s, and d’s dancing, spinning, moving, and I couldn’t pin them down. I could not decipher words, and I felt like I was less–stupid, missing a piece, not good enough. I had a teacher tell me so, which was not helpful to my developing mind and heart…
Eventually, I learned that I was dyslexic, and the healing began. I remember going to summer school, and the letters stopped moving.
I began to read, and I have never stopped. I read books, door signs, letters, retail hours, my boys’ homework, texts, the occasional magazine, restaurant signs, emails, pop-up ads, instructions, closed caption words (even when I don’t have to), YA literature, modern fiction, non-fiction, meditation guides, contemplative living, self-help, life coaching material, websites, lists…. I can get so wrapped up in reading a sign, especially if it is poorly written, that I can forget where I am.
Words hold great power. I learn about myself, God, the world, faith, grace, and love. I get perspective. I am transformed, challenged, called–all through someone’s words on a page. Climbing into a book is safe. As a child I would lose myself hours over hours on end in the pages of a book. Reading is safe, if I’ve chosen wisely.
- What significant event shaped you?
- Tell me about how it made you or broke you?
- How does this event still wield power in your life?
- Tell me about redemption.