I’ve been in a real reading slump. I think it’s, in part, due to laziness, and, in part, due to a lack of marketing exposure. Having been used to living in a more populous portion of the state, I took for granted that at the bi-weekly coffee outings to Barnes and Noble, I was freely fed a veritable buffet of new literature. Not that it was all good, mind you, but there were always treasures to be found in the classics department. Since my move to the north of nowhere, my buffet has been reduced to the sporadic library book sale. Until now.

My immediate community of literary influence may have diminished, but the church is universal, praise God, and the long-distance company I keep are a revolving door of resource. These are not the books that I would have chosen just a few short years ago, but as we grow and change, we have new, and prayerfully, greater desires, and our book pile reflects it.

I now have a stack of theology books in the living room, beckoning me to stop being a wimp and finish them already, and one on the way that I am particularly excited about. I think my slump is finally over, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it couldn’t last long. A reader can never stray too far from the shelf.