I am going back to my roots.

I should let you know that my abandonment of Scripture did not last forever. With a new awareness of the perils of allowing the pursuit of truth to be guided by pride, I have humbly returned to the Book that has challenged and inspired me since I received my first copy nearly sixteen years ago.

I remember my first significant encounter with the Bible. An extended family member had paid for my sister and me to spend a week at camp, and my mom bought us Bibles because it was on a packing list that came in the mail. It was a Precious Moments Bible. New King James Version. I took the baby blue one because I didn't like pink. My sister got the pink one. I was nearly ten years old.

After a week at camp, I was rather curious about my new Book. I had observed some striking qualities in the Christian leaders at camp, like they had extra love or joy or peace or... something. Since my new Book seemed quite important to them, I decided to read it. It was July. I started in the New Testament. Someone at camp must have had the good sense to suggest this.

I have to admit, I was rather disenchanted as I began reading the gospel according to Matthew. A genealogy of Jesus spanning 42 generations was a rather hardy read for my nine-year-old self. So much begetting. I found the subsequent story of Jesus to be very compelling, though, and continued reading. I finished reading the New Testament before school started again and have been enamored with the Book ever since.

This Book played an integral role in the development of my faith identity-- in my becoming a Christian and in my constantly growing understanding of what that means. I am very glad to have my nose back in it. It feels good; it feels like home. I am discovering so many new things. I hope to share some of these things with you soon.