I took a vacation day from work to finish some assignments for my classes. I decided to utilize Liberty’s new library. On the second floor, there is a reading room. I walked in and immediately noticed a blissful, scholarly-looking spot in the corner. The ivory shades were closed and the sun was beaming through upon a brown leather chair, though it was initially green in my mind. I sat down and angled myself so that the sun would shine from behind me, but not directly.
I had a piece of pie that I was determined to finish for second breakfast before I embarked. As I ate my pie, I perused the books in the “reading room.” As I did, I felt again like I did as a child, when I would go to the toy store. There was so much to be explored. I immediately noticed reference books on German and thought about my desires to learn German within the next couple of years. My eyes scrolled down upon Dostoevsky, who I have read some and gleaned from, and Tolstoy, who I have not read, but hope to. I noticed Hebrew references, and thought about this summer, and how I hope to study Hebrew each day, in order to, Lord willing, prepare myself for graduate work. I tried to recall in my mind what I knew about Hebrew so far, which consisted of trying to recite the alphabet, but only getting to daleth before I turned the corner. I saw Lewis and Tolkien, had a vague impression of what I knew about reading their works and longed to read more. My eyes glazed the great writers whose books I have not cracked open, but who, from testimony, I knew had richness of wisdom to share: Bunyan, Shakespeare, Milton, Dickens. I saw Jane Austen and recalled the joy and richness that her works have brought Amanda, longing to understand what Amanda does about her works.
What I encountered in my short perusal was a combination of some things discovered, but much more undiscovered. The limited exposure that I have had to the knowledge on these shelves sent my heart longing to know more. I became, as I always do in libraries, increasingly aware of my own limitations. I realized that I will die before I come close to reading a small percentage of these works. Yet, it sent my heart longing for the God who, in wisdom and knowledge, spoke the world into existence. The God whose own thoughts make these books seem more simple than an infants babble. The God who is the ultimate goal of the knowledge in these books. I had peace that the God who thought all of these thoughts long before these authors did (and much more perfectly), who set the sun in motion that is shining through these shades, is the God with whom I hope to spend an eternity, forever gleaning knowledge and beauty of his Being