There’s so much of scripture that I don’t understand; so much that confuses me, and I’m thankful for this. Scripture has become more living and breathing to me since I allowed myself to be confused by it. I used to see it as a self-help book, a good resource for life advice, and in so doing, I stripped it of its depth and richness. I ran into problems when I tried to read Leviticus, or a Psalm where David cries out his deep, heart-felt pain to God and receives no answer. And I had absolutely no idea what to do with Ecclesiastes. I had to ignore these parts and skip to the more motivational passages.        While divinely inspired, scripture is written by and about fallen people in a fallen world and it takes no pains to hide this. It deals with the very real struggles of very real people. And so if you’re looking for your typical self-help, improve-your-life-in-ten-simple-steps book, the Bible is not the place to go.   C.S. Lewis, in his book  An Experiment in Criticism,  makes