LIVING AS AN OPEN BOOK
Copyright 2001 by  Debbie Porter

Weariness was washing over me like a wave. Not the type of wave that has everyone running for the hills screaming, "Tsunami" and not even the foaming avalanche of water that causes the surfer to grab his board and take to the sea.

No, this was more like the gentle ebb and flow of the little waves that ripple softly onto the shore, taking a grain or two of sand with them each time they recede. Every minute of the day had taken just a tiny bit more of my energy until finally, at 10.00 pm I was ready to surrender.

Kylie had already made her way to bed and Steve was getting ready to do the same. Matt was fighting the inevitable and, as usual, conveniently forgetting how hard it is to wake up in the morning when he hasn't had enough sleep.

As for me, I pushed myself out of my comfortable armchair and headed to the kitchen to finish making lunches for the next day. That done, I headed toward the bathroom, and it was then that I made my first mistake.

There it was lying so innocently on the kitchen counter, with not a sound or movement to draw attention to itself. How easy it would have been to just keep walking, but it was almost as though my hands had a will of their own as they reached out and took hold of the paper temptress. Once it was tucked under my arm, my fate was sealed and there was no turning back.

"I'll just read a few pages while I brush my teeth," I reassured myself, although not really believing a word of this self-delusion. Sure enough, the book quickly caught my attention and that was when I made my second mistake by taking it with me into the smallest room of the house.

Now I know the world is divided between those who do and those who don't, so for all who don't read in this particular place, I'm apologizing in advance. For all who do, I know that you already know what happened next because you've had it happen to you as well.

Recognizing an opportunity when he saw it, Matt waited a minute or two then knocked on the door. "Mom? Could I play with my gameboy for a few minutes until you come past?"

"Hmm? Yeah, sure, sure! Whatever!" My finely tuned communication skills had obviously already headed to bed and all thoughts of Matthew's question were gone from my mind as quickly as they'd come.

Time seemed to stand still as each page was turned. Although the novel had been a little slow to begin with, it was now moving at a cracking pace. The author, Gilbert Morris, had fine-tuned the art of leaving each break point and chapter at a pinnacle which demanded that the reader keep turning pages.

It was then that I heard the pad of feet down the hall and a gentle knock on the door.

"Mom?" It was my night-owl son again. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I whispered back. Then added with a touch of embarrassment, "I'm reading."

Comprehension and relief were in Matt's voice as he exhaled and simply said, "Ohhh!"

Then came the comment, "You've been in there like an hour and a half!"

An hour and a half? Surely not! But on emerging back into the "real world" I discovered that he'd been quite right. It was now officially late and my opportunistic 13-year-old had been making the most of my delay.

Wasting not a moment more, I left Gilbert's handiwork on the bathroom sink and jumped into the shower. As I hurriedly washed, I thought about the ability of a writer to captivate his reader in such a way that they're almost compelled to continue to the end of the story.

"I want to write like that!" I thought with great admiration and respect for those who have honed their craft to such a fine art.

There are those who write in such a way that it's a struggle to turn even one page, but at the opposite end of the spectrum there are the masters. Those authors who have developed their skill to such a degree that they know exactly how to hook their readers and reel them in to the very last word.

My greatest desire is that my writing won't get in the way of the message, and that in everything I write, Christ will be glorified and the Father exalted. Because of this, I totally relate to the Psalmist who wrote:

It's the theme of the Gospel that stirs me to write and the sheer joy and wonder of this new life in Christ. My hope is that each time someone reads one of these simple stories, they'll be captivated by the love and grace of God, right to the very end.

But more than that, I want my life itself to be an open book for all to see what God has done in and for me. From start to finish, in good times and bad, through sunshine and storms, I want the simple story of my life to be one that captures and holds the attention of those who stop to "read". Not so that I might become greater in their eyes, but that our Savior may receive the ovation. After all, according to the writer of Hebrews, Jesus is the greatest Author of all:

I want to live as an open book, with the story of my life revealing the heartbeat of the One who wrote it. As you pause to "read" my life, I pray that the Author who wrote it will hold you enthralled and "turning pages" right to the very end.

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