Sometimes I have bouts of insomnia. During one such night, I thought about reading and how wonderful it is. And, it occurred to me that reading is like another place to me. A reading place.
Reading is a place to think or hide. Not necessarily to hide from the world, but to hide as an observer—yet one capable of change!
Reading is a place to grow or feel small. Now, some people automatically associate “small” with negative connotations. I don’t. I can find great relief in reorienting myself as a small creature within creation.
Sure, there can be temptations toward escapism and, well, dehumanizing tendencies. By that I mean that people can become dissatisfied with what God has given because they get unrealistic expectations inflating their dreams and feelings of self-entitlement. Or, um, wickedly one might just become distracted, reading so often we set the table with a book in our hands. But, um, thankfully that isn’t a permanent condition. lol
The reading place is a place for vicarious experience, learning, thinking, emotional catharsis that doesn’t burden my husband or my kids . . . lol. The list goes on and on!
Reading, I love you.
Thank you, Lord, for the marvelous gift of the reading place. 🙂 Please grant us discernment in how we use it. Amen.