Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Love Books ~ And Frances

We do books around here.
Lots of books.

We have semi-neat rows of books.
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We have in 'em in piles.
On tables, on nightstands... and under them too.
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I found this on the stairs. And these on chairs.
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We have 'em in crates in corners.

And in crates behind our sofa ( our. ugly. sofa. that screams nasty things
about the colors that were happening in the late 1980's.)

They are in plastic bins under Sarah's bed.
( the side that can't be seen from the door )  

We have 'em here. We have 'em there.
We have 'em everywhere.
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Yep. This place is cluttered with books.
I don't even like clutter.
( I have nothing to point at, in my life, as proof of that. I'm just saying)

But I think that books are a good kind of clutter to have.
Our books are loved, enjoyed and appreciated.  
The covers get bent and edges worn.
(I dog ear pages and underline words.)
Books here are carried around, learned from, laughed over and relaxed with.

Too much neat and tidy, kept in a box or always on a shelf perfection,
suggests that something has never really been enjoyed.

Like a complete set of pretty dishes all intact.
A pristine box of crayons.
Or boys bicycles without any mud.

I recently had a friend ask me about my favorite book.
I carefully considered my answer because I love so many.
Even so, I forgot about this one. And it is a favorite.

This story holds profound truth that clutches at me everytime I read it.
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Being careful is not as much fun as being friends.

Learning from past experience is different than allowing it to control me.
It is not pretending that it never happened.
It is not the same as living out of my hurt and fear of it.

It is different than taking my really good reasons to forever be more careful and applying them
to everything and everyone around me ( that sounds like bondage.)
It must be more about God and His wisdom, and what He shows me in and thru
and perhaps, because of... ( that sounds like freedom.)
It is 2 Corinthians 1:4-5 so that we can share His comfort, having experienced it.

Reminds me of a song that we listen to alot in the van.

"...Couldn't get lost 'cause I never explored...
Dance like no one is looking, sing like no one can hear, love like you've never hurt before...

...draggin my feet, tracked in more mud
tried to take control, dug a deeper hole.

Dance like no one is looking, sing like no one can hear, love like you've never hurt before...
Faith is the substance, faith is the key
Faith is gonna take us
where we're meant to be!"

Where we're meant to be~ free to have fun being friends~living and loving out of who He is.

Being careful is not as much fun as being friends.
Do you want to be careful, or do you want to be friends?

So tell me.
What is your favorite book? And why?

Anyone else, all grown up, ever feel like you're about 8 years old, vulnerable,
having just played one time too many with a Thelma and Francis...
...but took a chance on giving up Careful...and as a result, have something far more precious than fun?