Reader's Reflections: The Shack

I mentioned in the Random Dozen meme a couple of weeks ago that I was in the midst of reading The Shack, by Wm. Paul Young. I finished it last week, and thought I'd take today's post to talk about it.

It's not a comprehensive book review or anything like that, but those of you who have read it know that this is one of those books that provokes conversation! I'll try to word this so it won't spoil things too much for others who still have it on the list to read.

I really didn't have trouble with Papa being Elouisa. As Elouisa says, the purpose in taking on that personage was to completely wreck Mack's preconceptions. Which it did, so the purpose was accomplished.

I found a lot of things that were spoken by Elouisa/Sarayu/Jesus to be things I've often thought or even recorded in my journals; in some cases the thoughts were expressed much better in the book than in my head. Those are things I want to go back and underline, once I've actually purchased a fresh, un-grapejuice-stained copy for the Princess and feel free to mark this book up.

But do you know what the book stirred in me more than anything?

Jealousy.

I found myself fighting the concept that someone as normal as Mack...sure, he'd been through a horrific tragedy, but that degree of tragedy is not uncommon to man...had such a visitation. Some part of my brain kept asking, 'What's so special about him? How come he gets such an amazing gift? His sorrow was great, to be sure, his life a mess...but he was not unique in that.

Then I had to wonder why I was jealous of a fictional story character.

And in wondering that, I found that I have been neglecting my own invitations from 'Papa'. Not to go to some remote place and have a supernatural experience, but to just set aside some part of my day to spend in His presence. Who knows what secrets I would be privileged to share if I would just answer those invitations...right when they're issued...instead of trying to work a Quite Time into the schedule somewhere?

Sort of like what happens when I fix a nice supper for my family, but one of my older kids has an obligation somewhere and just grabs a bite on the way out of the door. I've just been grabbing a peanut butter sandwich and scurrying off, rather than sitting down to the meal. How can I be jealous of someone who took the time to belly up to the table and eat?

You see how the book provoked me.

I'm looking forward to reading it again...with a ink pen in hand, for underlining and making notes.

Now, if you'll excuse me...I think I hear Papa calling. ;)