Everyone I know has read the William Paul Young book, “The Shack.” Everyone except me.
Why I didn’t get around to reading it over the last couple of years as it zoomed to the top of the best-selling list and stayed there, I don’t know. I observed that no one was neutral about it, some cursing it and warning everyone off and others testifying to how it changed everything about the way they think of God.
That’s pretty powerful stuff. Wouldn’t mind writing a book that would do that, myself.
I confess that the only reason I read the book this weekend is that my niece Lisa McKeever Hollingsworth asked me to and to tell her what I think. She had wept through it and said that nothing has affected her the way this book did.
I bought it at the local used paperback book store. The sticker on it reads “$9.00 cash.”
It was a fast read. It’s well written. Mr. Young clearly has written before and has a knack for expression. A knack for the shack? Sorry.
The good thing about penning one’s thoughts on a blog is that he can always re-enter the website and tweak what he has written. I expect I’ll be doing that since I have so many currents running through my mind on this little book, and doubtless I’ll forget to jot some of those thoughts down.
It hits me that writing a review of a book long after it has run its course is par for me. The only time I saw the movie “Gone With the Wind” was 30 years after its debut. It came to the theaters in Greenville, Mississippi, where I was pastoring my first church following seminary, and so affected me that I sat down at the typewriter and put on paper all the thoughts rushing through my mind. What I did with it in those pre-blog days, I have no memory.
As I sit at the computer, the clock in the lower right corner identifies the time as 3:02 a.m.
I had planned to sleep last night and did for some four hours. At 2 a.m., I awakened and made the customary journey to the smallest room in the house which people my age take in the middle of nights. I took a couple of pills I always take at that time, and then, wide awake, went to my drawing table and worked on six cartoons for a pastor friend in Michigan who asked me to illustrate a mission lesson he is doing.
And I decided to get back into bed and read the last 25 pages of “The Shack.” Those who have read it will vouch for that being a climactic part of the plot. When I laid the book down, far from being ready for bed, I knew I’d have to write down all those emotions and thoughts fighting in my brain for expression.
So, here goes.
Dear Lisa.
