We all have quirks. Foibles. Idiosyncrasies. Whatever you call them, it’s the weird little things about us that make us unique. Some of mine are obvious to all who know me. But other peculiarities you’d never know unless I told you.
Most of the world prefers to watch their stories on a screen. I like that too. And most of the reading world prefers the latest from Gillian Flynn or Nicholas Sparks, or James Patterson, or Stephen King, but one quirky thing about me is I will always opt for the great, old books. Anything by Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Alexandre Dumas, or Charlotte Brontë. I just love how their great stories also use great language to communicate great truths and advance great virtues.
But here’s where you’re going to really think I’m weird: sometimes, after 500 pages (or lately 35 hours of an audio book), when I finally reach the end of one of these epic novels, I turn back to the first page and start it all over again. I just did it yesterday with Dickens’ Bleak House.
I understand for many of you that sounds like torture. But for me, once the whole grand, beloved plot is tied up with a satisfying bow, that’s when I want to unwrap it, re-examine its beauty and re-experience its charm.
It’s at the end of the book is when I really love (or despise) the characters. It’s at the end of the book that I fully know which conversations and decisions were critical to character development. How early was this or that symbolism of introduced? When did things really turn from bad to good, or good to bad, or bad to worse?
If a book warrants an instant re-reading from me, it’s because it has seized my soul in some powerful way. It has said something true about me, about the ones I love, about my fears or failures or hopes or dreams. It has stirred great emotion, taught great perspective, or brought great insight.
And I think the reason I do this with books is to help me do it in real life. What have been the capstone moments that have moved my life story along? Who have been the major characters? What impact have they had? Are those people heroes or villains? If villains, how can I rise above and beyond the pain they caused? If heroes, have I truly appreciated their influence? What am I doing now to carry their legacy forward? What lessons have I learned? Am I still learning? And if the Divine Author been carefully writing my story, how might the next chapters go? And do I really trust him with a happy ending?
God made us all quirky. He made me quirky in this particular way. How has He made you eccentric and what has that peculiarity taught you about Him? Comment below, I’d love to hear from you.
