Pages Can Breathe
Essays, Featured — By Russ Masterson on January 12, 2010 at 9:00 am
My wife falls asleep immediately, head to the pillow, but I like to read myself into the dream world. I climb into bed and pull my headlamp over my curly hair. I aim the light at the pages and read the words working my way through the ink, a story bleeding from the author’s heart and honed by his mind. Last week I finished reading Donald Miller’s new book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. It was a relaxed read with wise insight sprinkled throughout the charming stories. Now I’m on to a book about a man who worked in the Coalition Provisional Government during the year that followed our invasion of Iraq.
Lately I’ve been thinking about how it’s a shame I limit my reading to bedtime and to books. Perhaps there is more to read than ink. Perhaps pages can breathe.
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I spent last weekend at a retreat in north Georgia with a group of college students. We spent one afternoon on a hike to the bottom of Tallulah Gorge, down a kajillion stairs and across a gut-wrenching hanging bridge: sheer cliffs, a tumbling waterfall and a mountain river. As we began the four hundred or so demanding stairs back out of the gorge, I found myself behind Ling and May, two girls I didn’t know. Ling was from Northwestern China, and, as I asked her what she was learning on the retreat, she suddenly asked, “So, God is a spirit?”
Ling went on to ask questions about doubt and truth and redemption. In between the questions, and hopefully adequate answers, I read her story: her hometown, her family, how she ended up in Atlanta. As Ling and I talked, May simply listened, never adding a comment and never asking a question. I eventually read her story as well: a preacher’s kid trying to reconcile the Christianity of her childhood with a world that claims many different things about God. I knew there was more to each of their stories, more than the four hundred stairs allowed. I knew I’d only entered the preface. We didn’t get to the conflict, their wounds and mistakes, or the resolutions, their joys and dreams. But up the many stairs, I was reminded of a great truth: I was reminded that pages can breathe.
I’m beginning to see how often I treat people like the annoying promotional brochures some dreaming-of-Broadway twenty-year-old tries to hand you in Times Square. Perhaps out of some feeling of obligation you take their stupid paper, glancing at it, seeing if it meets a need you have and tossing it into the next trash can you pass. I don’t treat people like I should, like the treasured books I eagerly climb into bed to crack open. I’m learning there is a story there, one that breathes and is far greater than the words that fill the pages that sleep on my nightstand.
This morning I was thinking about all of this as I drove to the church where I work. Like usual I entered the expressway and drove by Grady Hospital, a building full of stories, some ending and some beginning, stories of tragedy and hurt, joy and expectation. All in that one massive, meandering building, a warehouse of stories, the largest bookstore in the world. As I exited the expressway and took a left on Northside Parkway, I noticed books walking on the sidewalk, other books carrying medicine out of the corner pharmacy, and a few hustling into the bank to make a quick morning transaction.
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A friend recently told me that all writing isn’t meant to be understood, at least not right away. He read me a poem by T.S. Elliot and asked me what it meant. I didn’t know. He said he didn’t either, but we both agreed it was beautiful. He said Elliot never intended for people to understand the meaning of his work at first read. My friend said the poem was beautiful in its words and rhythms and mystery, and only a heart that truly desired to know its meaning would seek and find it. As he said this I thought to myself that most beauty is like this – poetry, literature, art, and yes, people.
9 Comments
Russ, wonderful piece. I also find that many people want to share their story and are looking for others to share it with.
Reminds me of a scene in that movie with Julia Roberts, Erin Brockovich. There was a scene where some guy sat by her at a bar and she realized he had some pertinent information for their case. She was freaking out realizing how big this may be and called her boss for advice on how to handle it. He said something to the effect of, “Let him tell his story. People are looking for someone to tell their story to.” I remembered that line because I saw truth in it and have seen it myself (and like to do the same).
Seemed this was part of her success too with the town’s people that would become their clients, she really cared for them and let them tell their story. When other lawyers from another firm tried to get information from them they wouldn’t talk to them, but her they did.
Yes, some of the best stories are the ones that are more about diving into and experiencing, like God. There in is its meaning and enjoyment.
My younger brother renovates homes, does additions, ect. His artistic talent is wonderful. I’m continuously amazed and at awe with it. Love beautiful art and I am always raving to him about his work. I mean when he is done with a home it is like “stepping into” a piece of art and I have referred to it as an “experience” to be admired and enjoyed. It isn’t just home rennovation but a truly delightful experience. What that boy does with designs is truly a God-given gift that he has flourished in.
Think that may be the same with some stories.
Wonderful article and wonderful closing.
Love in Him,
Jo
One more. One more!
Ok Russ, this one is for you and hope it is an encouragement to you with your insights here.
I don’t know what you all believe regarding dreams and visions from God. I don’t doubt quite a few here have experienced this so feel others can relate. Won’t look to share too much there as not sure how that is seen yet going to share one other now, because of this article. I think it may be a confirmation and encouragement to you Russ and your insights.
Just the other night I had this vision that I feel I found the meaning in some things you wrote here. I wasn’t sure why I was shown this or what it all meant. Anyway, I saw a trash can in a backyard with all these crumbled up papers in them. I felt they were writings even as I couldn’t see the writings as they were crumbled. They were just trashed, like just disregarded and trashed. That was it. End of vision.
I wondered why I was being shown this. Thought maybe I was to do away with somethings as I can go on, but I didn’t know. I didn’t know why I was being shown this. Seeing I’m not just led by these things but look for clarity and confirmation and how the Lord may lead within (true sight and hearing come from being connected to his heart), I didn’t look to act on anything, and kinda put it to the side (have had other things going on too). I didn’t know whose yard I was viewing and who did it. I wondered too if maybe they were put there to be set on fire, like to be destroyed, but didn’t know. It was a large trash can that was full to the top with these white crumbled papers. I just knew they were just like disregarded and trashed.
You said, “I’m beginning to see how often I treat people like the annoying promotional brochures some dreaming-of-Broadway twenty-year-old tries to hand you in Times Square. Perhaps out of some feeling of obligation you take their stupid paper, glancing at it, seeing if it meets a need you have and tossing it into the next trash can you pass. I don’t treat people like I should, like the treasured books I eagerly climb into bed to crack open. I’m learning there is a story there, one that breathes and is far greater than the words that fill the pages that sleep on my nightstand.”
Maybe therein lies the answer. Whether it was about me or others I don’t know whose yard I was viewing and who did it. Either way, even as God does at times show me more clearly when something is amiss with me, when that is not more clear and even when I sense that is not the case, I do look to see if I may be doing the same thing so feel in Him knowing this that at times I feel He knows I will look to see how it may apply to me so it may not be always necessary for Him to do so Himself.
I just remember wondering why were all these papers disregarded and trashed? That is what I sensed, that they were disregarded as like nothing significant and trashed. Was that the case and were they supposed to be? I don’t know. I don’t think there was an answer in that sense. I think the answer may have been more in what I felt seeing it, that they were just disregarded as trash.
So Russ, whether about me or others or a combo, I think I found my answer in your article here (though I could be wrong still) so thanks for the wonderful insights. May we see the significance in each other. Whether it is something we need or not doesn’t seem to be the most revelant thing. What may be more revelant is in the discovery of each other in a greater sense.
Well done in my opinion and thanks again.
Love in Him,
Jo
i like the perspective, this gives a refreshing approach to ministry. I encourage people to turn the page. That it’s not the end, it’s just the beginning of another chapter. Am I listening with comprehension or just skimming conversations…
I heard one guy say, “I don’t believe in accountability partners, I have a life editor.” Someone to suggest what I should delete and make additions here and there.
enjoyed this.
I’m heading into a day of meetings, each on stacked on top of the other – they’re about vision, administration, planning, with various meetings of pastoral care interspersed. Your story of hiking and conversation ignited something deep inside of me, leading me to pray for the capacity to be fully present with the people of these meetings, not just the agenda, and to see with the eyes of Christ.
Thanks so much for this marvelous piece!
What an enjoyable, thought provoking read. Thank you.
Fantastic. I thought about how God changed me not so long ago from a self-absorbed people user to someone who can still be self absorbed, but can now see people as of great worth and their stories interestingly unique and beautiful. Thanks for the reminder of this and to slow down, listen, and enjoy the beauty.
I don’t treat people like stories. I just finished Donald Millers new book and I’ve never thought of it the way you just described. I work at a Walgreens and I see stories pass by the cash register for eight hours every few days. I regret that I only see people and I think we as people have a very low view of what qualifies as a person. Stories are not merely lists of events, but full of meaningful snapshots that hold importance in not only our lives but in EVERYONE ELSE.
What a great essay. You have helped me to realize that I too neglect the stories all around me. Too often I have my face in a book while incredible stories pass me by.