I can, too!

It never ceases to perplex me to know that so many people hate to read. I've lost count of the number of people who've bought my book just for the autograph, but haven't opened the book since they bought it!

I couldn't wait to learn to read.  My mother often said I came home from school the first day, tried to read the comics in the newspaper and was very upset at being unsuccessful.

The time I remember is when I tried to convince my brother that I could read.  I don't think I'd even started school.  The book was called, The Little Lost Puppy. I would have someone one read it to me until I had the first page memorized.  I took the book to my brother who is six years older than me and insisted I could read.  Every time he'd say, "You can't read," I would yell, "I can, too!"  To prove it, I quoted that first page, quite pleased with myself.  Then, he turned the page and said, "OK, Smarty, read this page."  

Busted.

Down, but not out.  Dad loved to read.  He borrowed his mother's books and let me read them.  I was intrigued by the mysteries of Ellery Queen and Miss Jane Marple.  My brother's copies of The Sugar Creek Gang often found their way into my hands, as did anything about Nancy Drew.  Heidi, Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn were favorites that I read repeatedly.  The adventures of Jack London's hero's sent my imagination soaring and Grace Livingston Hill romances made me sigh and dream of the man who would someday sweep me off my feet.  Her heroes were so perfect and so were her heroines.  Sophisticated people claimed Hill's books rotted the brain, but they made a strong impression on me and my friends about the importance of purity before marriage.

But, the books I love the most are missionary biographies.  Since I've been tutoring at Shiloh, I've been reintroduced to them.  Hudson Taylor, D.L. Moody, George Mueller, Brother Andrew, and of course, the five martyrs in Eduador: Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, Roger Youdarian, Pete Fleming, and Ed McCully.  I think I enjoy reading about missionaries most because they humble me.  Not put me down to make themselves feel better.  Their lives are so Christ-like and I know I am no where near their walk with the Lord.  I stumble and fall over and over again.

Who among us today would refuse to fire a gun-even to scare away men determined to hack us to death with machetes?  Who among us today would refuse to ask one single person, or even hint at a financial need when asked, like George Mueller or Brother Andrew?  Today's media devices rule out completely saying good-bye to our mother, knowing we'd never see them again, like Hudson Taylor.  And, who among us would have the audacity to rent the World's Fair tent in Chicago to have evangelistic meetings in the mornings, knowing full well there would be all kinds of entertainment in the afternoon like D.L. Moody did?  

That's what I mean by being humbled.  They don't say an unkind or critical word, they just go about the business God called them to, and they accomplish great things. They inspire me as well as humble me.  I know I have a lot to learn to live as close to the Lord as they were, and I keep trying.

Never thought of it before, but maybe now's the time to say, "I can, too!"