Chapter Books

My oldest is officially a reader, and we have reached the point in our parenting where his presence prevents us from spelling things in covert communication. First grade saw a significant jump in his reading abilities and comprehension. He’s ready for chapter books if I could just convince him that they’re worth his time. Unfortunately, he’s not interested in chapter books. He wants one and done books, not the kind that takes time to get through.

A someone who loves reading and writing, it’s frustrating how much he fights me on reading. He hasn’t yet learned the beauty of exploring through books. He hasn’t found joy at the end of a book when the hero has prevailed. He doesn’t know the irresistible urge to keep turning the page even though it’s late and you’re exhausted. He hasn’t been heartbroken in one chapter only to have it healed in the next. He hasn’t discovered the journeys found in books, vicarious experiences, and real emotions that occur as you turn page after page in a story.

Sure there are some great short books, but it’s the ones about journeys that get me. Reading and watching as Scarlett O’Hara sheds her spoiled, childish self and walking with her every cringe-worthy step of the way. Seeing Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet set aside their pride and prejudice and discover their ardent love for each other. Experiencing the Great Depression with the Joads as they put one foot in front of the other, surviving everything life throws at them. These books stick with me, the highs and the lows, each chapter building on each other to tell a story that is sometimes painful, sometimes heartbreaking, but beautiful because they tell of change, growth, and life.

The chapters in my life are building on top of each other to tell my own story. Certain chapters have been more enjoyable; they held the highest moments of welcoming babies, of promotions, and of being at home in a loving, tight-knit community. Others have been hard to get through, marked by depression, struggle, fear, and loneliness. But they’re all just chapters, parts that come to an end and move me along to the next piece of my story. The beautiful ones don’t last forever, but neither do the hard ones.

When I glance back through past chapters of my life, I see all of the wonderful and surprising stories they’ve told and how each one has worked to bring me here as the woman that I am. I’m part of my way into this current Colorado chapter, and it can still be a struggle. But as it’s written, I see prose coming together to form beautiful pictures of friendship moving through their growing stages, and home growing roots in a new location. I’m tempted to be like my son, wanting to get through things, to skip to the end and bypass the journey, or wish for one that’s simplistic and gets straight to the point. But the point is the journey. The point is living my own awkward, cringe-worthy moments as I grow up, it’s learning how to set down my pride and choose love, and it’s learning how to put one foot in front of the other when things are hard. I don’t know what this current chapter will hold, but I know that God is writing it with purpose, with the artistry of a creator, and with his presence as the anchor of my life.

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith… Hebrews 12:2