I’ve always been a good reader. Every since I was a young child sitting pie eyed in elementary school I could read and read well. When most kids were reading beginning reading books I was taking historical fiction written for higher grade levels. Stories of Lewis and Clark, Abe Lincoln and Yukon Gold miners filled my brain as a young child. I devoured books at an alarming rate as a child the library was my respite and the librarian one of my best friends.
When it came to reading comprehension exams on standardized texts I get near 100 percent accuracy on every test. I knew I could read and comprehend. I don’t write this in attempt to be cocky (you know the I’m so important because I can read and understand it which makes me better than you somehow because it doesn’t), but rather to further explain who I was growing up. I will say this that I am probably one the few English majors who feels that James Joyce is overrated and that Shakespeare’s plays are just so-so.
I’ve read hundreds and hundreds of book in my life, but I finally met my match in a small book with a red hard cover with gold embossing and the words “The Holy Bible” written on the spine. I can no longer skim the words gathering in the theme of the paragraph and move on to the next. No when I read the Bible I need to take it line by line, word for word. Let the meaning of the texts come to me not have me come to the meaning. It is one of the most difficult and most rewarding books I have ever picked up. When I pick up the Bible to read it I need to remind myself that proper study of the text is a marathon and not a sprint. God’s in charge of the pacing and I’m just along for the ride.