As the pages turn

Sometimes it's nice to escape reality.

That's just one of the many reasons I love to read. When you get lost in a book, you get to enter into an entirely new world. All of a sudden, you're part of some imaginary (or, on occasion, real) place with fictitious people who start to seem like your best friends.

I developed a love for reading at a really young age. I loved following the adventures of Amelia Bedelia, Cam Jansen, the kids who lived in a boxcar and solved mysteries, Nancy Drew, and many other novels that kept me turning pages with eager anticipation.

In high school, I started reading what I affectionately referred to as "cheesy romances." They were always about teenage girls who did stupid things in front of their crushes but somehow always ended up with them in the end. Those were fun to read, probably because they gave me hope. Too bad my life never mirrored those fun tales.

It was also in high school that I started reading a series that had a huge impact on my life: The Christy Miller series. I didn't care that they were at a sixth-grade reading level or something like that. They were perfect. I truly became part of Christy's world—I cheered for her when she accepted Christ; I hoped for her that Todd would admit his love for her; I threw the book across the room when Todd moved to Hawaii; I let my heart leap when he came back to her; I fumed with her when we found out what a jerk Rick was; I jumped for joy the first time Todd told her he loved her; I almost cried when he proposed with the old candy hearts, and Christy had no idea what he was doing at first; and I felt like I was actually at the wedding when they finally said "I do." Best. Series. Ever.

"With a dreamy, far-off look and her nose stuck in a book..."

I love the smell of books. I love the way the pages feel in my hands. I love floating in the pool with a book in my hand and forgetting about the world around me until some little kid splashes me with his cannonball.

I love finding out about different athletes from David Halberstam. I love trying to figure out who the killer is and what the motive was in a Michael Connelly novel, particularly when Harry Bosch is the detective. I love reading quirky biographies from people like Mike Greenberg. I love learning history—yet feel deep compassion—when reading about happenings during the Holocaust. I love seeing how people are changed and transformed by the love of Jesus in Francine Rivers books. I love discovering truth in the Bible.

I think one of the things I love most about reading is the passion it gave me to write. I don't think I would have such an avid love of words if it weren't for all of the time I've spent with my nose stuck in books. I guess I owe a lot of credit to my mom, who used to tell us the story of Chester the horse by heart. And, of course, I always enjoyed when she read the great tale of Tikki Tikki Tembo. That young hero provided inspiration beyond belief.

It's important to remember, though, that some of the best tales have yet to be written. Rather, they are ongoing stories—they are the stories of our lives (not to be said like "These are the days of our lives," please. I don't know why I've alluded to two different soap operas in this one. Forgive me for that.). After we enter into our alternate worlds, we have to return to our own realities and create page-turners that the rest of the world can't wait to read.

Good thing we've got the Greatest Author behind those masterpieces.

Just breathe

Lately I've been having to remind myself to breathe.

When I get really stressed out or frustrated at work, I sit on the floor. At this point, my students know they need to get right to work and start behaving. I'm a fan of this tactic, and one of my students once told me it's a non-threatening way of letting them know that I am not too happy with them and that I need a moment to breathe.

Unfortunately, I can't sit down when I get overwhelmed in every situation in life. Instead, all I can really do is breathe. Recently, it seems that's often all I can do.

For instance, today was going just great until a woman in the parking lot didn't see me pull up next to her and swung her door straight into mine, leaving a nasty dent in my door. Instead of apologizing, she said that I pulled in there pretty sneakily and that it was a shame they "make cars like pieces of s*** nowadays." Just breathe.

Sometimes Fla-Vor-Ice helps, too.

Then there was yesterday morning at the start of Too Hot To Handle. I already get terrible pre-race anxiety, and I thought I was going to need a paper bag for breathing when my Garmin lost reception moments before the race began. I had no idea what my pace was for the first two miles, and everything was off for the rest of the race. Just breathe.

Last weekend wasn't exactly a piece of cake, either. I bought a new bed, and I purchased a bed frame, along with a new sofa, from IKEA (which was a trip of stopping to breathe in itself). My mattress and IKEA items were all delivered on the 4th of July, so I spent most of that day inside my apartment building things. When the IKEA stuff was delivered, the guys put the massive, heavy sofa pieces on the wrong wide of the room, and I asked if they could move that box to where it needed to go. One of them said "You have to assemble it yourself." Yes, I was aware of that. I told him I wasn't asking him to build it for me—I just wanted help moving it to the right spot. He looked at me, said "You do it," and then walked out the door. My blood started boiling. Just breathe.

Then, while I was building my bed, I completely messed up on something (there were no words in the instructions—only pictures), and I had to take it all apart and redo it. Then, when I finally got to the end at almost 11:30 that night, I realized there was a critical piece missing. (I found out the next morning that it was sold separately, only no one had informed me that I would need it. Sorry, I'm not a carpenter and was unaware of this info.) I had my new mattress, and I couldn't even lay it flat on the floor to sleep on it, because the frame with the missing part was taking up too much room. I'm glad I built my sofa first, because I had to sleep on it that night. Just breathe.

There are so many small things in life that can seem like such big deals at the time. Traffic? Breathe. Groceries falling out of your bag in the parking lot? Breathe. Getting in what you think is the short line at the store only to have the person in front of you whip out about 27 coupons? Breathe. Looking at all of the work/homework you have in front of you and realizing you need about four more hours in each day? Breathe. Awkward encounter with someone you would prefer not to see? Breathe. Running out of gas on 75 on one of the hottest days of the year? Breathe.

Just breathe.

Sometimes life spins so fast, and it's too much to try to outrun it or even keep up. I have to keep reminding myself that it's out of my hands, and it's all in His—where it all belongs. In those moments, all I can do is breathe.

And sit on the floor when possible.