Actually Reading a Book
I started reading Donald Miller’s new book “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years” this week and as soon as I started reading I found myself revitalized. It was then that I realized that I haven’t actually read a book in nearly a year.
I say that in the “Never Been Kissed” sort of way. I have read at least 5 fiction books (and I think closer to 7). I have read countless children’s books and listened to the entire Harry Potter collection again along with several other fiction titles. But I haven’t read a book that speaks to my heart in a long, long time. (Now that I am typing this I guess I did read “Crazy Love” this year, but it just didn’t grab me the way it seems to have grabbed the rest of the world. I think that has more to do with my life at the time than any indictment on Chan)
But as I started to read on Monday it felt as if I was waking up from a dream. I mean, the words are good, but the truths aren’t revolutionary. I have heard about being part of a story for a long time, in fact I am even teaching about being a part of God’s story, but just the very essence of reading again feels like cool water on my face.
I still have too many pages to read to give any sort of review of the book, but I do feel awake, deep down in my bones awake, and it is only now that I realize how long it has been since I have felt like this.