I started reading Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games last night and am having a hard time putting it down. In fact, I am currently struggling to allow the wittiness of my brains flow onto my laptop because I just want to get back to my book. I miss Katniss Everdeen (she’s the main character gal who tells me her story; her name alone makes her interesting) and want to know of what’s to happen in the upcoming pages.
I’ve not read a fictional novel in awhile – I think it's been since studying at Multnomah University
I’ve already encompassed many of Katniss’ character traits. Her bitter independence has influenced that which I immediately consider myself to be entitled to and I’ve found myself questioning my most careful authority figures. Usually I am thankful for the wisdom and truth others patiently guide me to but since hanging out with my little book I’ve not understood them to be caring and wise. I’ve allowed myself to become captivated, wrongfully relating with her battle for survival as though it was I who hunted my dinner.
I’ve been confronted with my weakness but I plan not to put away this book without finishing. Instead, I hope and plan to fight for a good balance of scripture and community to influence my true reality more heavily than the story. I don’t care to jump off the edge of complete foolishness, divulging in the sin of determining the instances my life by my lonesome, as though I were in control of all things as God is. While I am free to simply read a religious-less book without conviction, I shan't allow this liberty to lead me into the continued choosing of primarily poor affairs rather than those which are beneficial, kicking my affection for Christ to the curb.
I am thankful that God has used The Hunger Games to expose my extensive weakness that I might continue to run to Him as I am incredibly dependant upon his goodness. He is the Oak Tree, I am the baby reed that is so easily and rightfully bruised.
No comments:
Post a Comment