This week I've read two books. . . two non-required books, which is very unusual for the school year. I read
Night by Elie Wiesel and
By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept by Paulo Coelho. Both were beautifully written
in very different ways.
Night was beautiful because of its content. In reality it was horrific. But the fact that the account was true and was a very deep revealing of Wiesel's experiences made it beautiful. Wiesel had a purpose in writing Night. He wasn't out to entertain, or out to make the reader think, "how awful!" Wiesel wanted people to start looking to see what kind of horrors are going on in our world now. The book is a call to action. . . a call to not let more tragedies go by so long undetected.
It hurt reading it. Because I know that every day I ignore the tragedies around me. I refuse to open my eyes, because I feel inadequate, like a child who watches helplessly. How can I help?
At the end of the week I read Coelho's book. Coelho has a very different approach to life and spirituality in most ways than I do. But when I read his books, I am awakened to the beauty of the spiritual. I read his books and I remember the reality of the mystical, the supernatural. It's so easy to dismiss these things as Christians...as people in general. We compartmentalize life into "fiction" and "non-fiction" and try to do the same to our faith. But faith encompasses so much more than that what we know. Coelho's book talked about love about encountering the spiritual (or God) fully through love in relationship with others. It was truly beautiful.
Anyway, it felt good to read and to enjoy...it seems like lately I haven't enjoyed reading. But it has me uneasy. The written word has the ability to create a world that seems impossible, a world of greatness. When I read I am alive to the supernatural and to dreams. So when I close a book, I feel unsettled, because I am returning to reality. To the pale colors that are my life. I know it can be more, but how. How do I step out?
