What I Really Think About . . .

Emerson the Magnificent


I thought, "A children's book."
Then . . . "Hey, I know some people who would like this."
Finally, I quit thinking and absorbed.

I read on . . . and on, and realized that anyone could read this book and be stirred.

• Cause it's crazy. Who believes a bike can talk?
• I mean, it makes you remember your childhood. And as I read, it touched the child still hidden inside me. Touched me and made me remember the unforgettable things that only a child--or a person who's become a child again--can experience. A grownup who believes again.
• It's a book that brought tears to my eyes.
• A book with realism; all too true of life without God. Childhood fun and memories, teenage doubts, adulthood experience and disappointment, and finally, a return to simple faith.
  

A child who visits his grandmother and remembers her colorful, madeup, fabric stories is given a beautiful red bike who talks to him. Without any friends at the seaside, his bike is his greatest advisor and companion.

Teenage years brings the death of his lavender-scented grandmother. Forgetfulness. And doubts. No bike can talk, regardless of how beloved. War, family, and a job interfered and years passed without contact.

But when the old man had sunk as low as he could, when his faith had all but disappeared, when everyone else is to blame, then God, through that remnant of childish belief in a talking bike, can speak again.

What do I really think about Emerson, the Magnificent?
Uhmmm. A keeper.
Thanks, Dwight, for allowing God to use you.

Blessings!