There’s power in worded pages.
I hear Him saying this.
There’s a special force that comes forth when cracked volumes meet reading eyes.
I’ve always loved to read and be read to.
I come from a mother who reads the whole of thick wordy books in a matter of hours.
And when I was young, every night at bed time I would fall asleep to her voice reading a mound of Berenstain Bear books to me.
Thanks, Mom :)
But only in recent seasons has it
been that I have come to recognize the impact of print, story, and
description on the lives of those who linger in text.
Four years ago, when a kind and knowing Ohio
woman came alongside me in my parenting - she started buying my
children books for their birthdays.
She purchased good, sound titles that had taught and blessed her children along the way.
And there, as I read to my kids - my love affair with books began to surge and steam.
Shortly after, a mama peer of mine suggested I read some Sally Clarkson blog posts.
After
doing this, and discovering Sally’s book on wholehearted learning - I
started to fully understand the immense power that lives in written language.
But not just for children.
For
mamas and daddies and grandparents and business people and diplomats
and the rich and the poor and teachers and bankers and entertainers and
royals and rascals and domestics and foreigners and the elite and the
loathing.
All are moved and cajoled and taken someplace when books unbind themselves inside a soul.
There is power in language sewn on pages.
And this makes me remember the pen again.
My pen, this time.
