”Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.” 2 Timothy 2:15 (KJV)
We all have memories; some wonderful, some good, some bad, some nightmare grade. We don’t dwell on those memories, unless we get together with family and friends and the “remember when\s” start up. Once in a while something triggers a memory that takes you back; a smell, a touch, a glance at something similar, or maybe a dream.
I was looking at my one bookcase of books and study materials that remain in my small home. Books have always been dear friends to me. They took me away on incredible adventures, or to a world I would never be able to see in person. They answered questions that no one nearby could reasonably explain. They helped me see into the heart, mind or soul of a person, place or event; some imaginary, some real. They inspired me to think!
If it was a story book or a poetry book, the pages had to stay clean and unwrinkled. No folded corners or marks, except for a date on the front page indicating when I had read it, and my name and address if I had loaned it out. If it was a study book, the pages would be highlighted and notes in the columns and sides of the page of thoughts to remember. Notes to teach from, notes to write from. Books – dear friends and precious teachers.
Those memories that I spoke of are the root of every writer’s story. The memory that started this piece was how much I loved the first day of school. Stepping through the classroom door and smelling the fresh coat of wax on the floor, the stack of freshly sharpened pencils, the inky smell of the tan/brown paper with stout royal blue lines, and a new textbook. The first thing I would do is open the book and put my face deep into the pages, breathing in the rich printing press smell. Dear friends that take me far away from the trials and the challenges of today and into a place of hope and promise. Dear friends that took me places I could not go to and taught me things I did not know.
A little over a year ago I moved into the smallest house I’ve had. I made the decision not to keep a library. I kept my one bookcase of materials to teach and counsel from. I have been on an incredible faith journey since March 1988, when I met Jesus in an intimate and personal way. Books have helped me along the way.
I thank you Lord, for the words you have placed in people’s hearts to share with the world. Words they may never realize made a difference in the lives of others. Words of a tale, words of a concept, words of history, or words of encouragement, helping us to step forward a little stronger every day. Thank you, I am truly grateful.
——– Update:
Since this writing in 2012 I have moved into a much smaller home – and rebuilt my library. Not as large as it once was, but delightfully larger, and hope to build bookcases in my second bedroom to accommodate these books and more to come!!!
Written by Linda J. Humes
10-21-2012
Linda J. Humes 