This is my journey. It may be totally different than yours. I grew up reading and graduated from adolescent reading to novels in the eighth grade. I took enough credits in English Literature to have a double major in College. I was asked to teach my senior english class when the professor was gone. (I remember wearing a houndtooth jacket and carry an umbrella the way Dr. Durret did.) I loved a great epic by James Michner, I loved John Irving. I loved Walker Percy. I read lots of great novels.
What I am saying is that I enjoyed all kinds of literature, the classics, the latest spy novel, the bestseller....and then I quit. 10 years ago. Suddenly, my interest in reading novels just dissappeared.I was 49 because it was 1999, I told you being born on the half decade mark helped. I had reached a state of confusion as a Pastor/teacher. Popular Christianity in the American west, which I had been experiencing for a decade now, since I quit whistling dixie in 89, had brought me to the place of confusion.
I took a break from Novels and popular literature to go on a personal quest. Today I will begin a short series on that journey, which ended recently and allowed me to weep with joy upon reading two novels. Both of the novels bespeak the resting place I have emerged upon.
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