Two or three times a week lately, it strikes me. My cup overfloweth.
With busyness, yes. We just did a quick volunteer meeting with our host church, and things are coming together nicely for the conference. But more than that. Something crumply, papery and priceless has leapt off the shelf and into my attention.
The Bringing of Books
At the same time, the serendipitous Randy’s dad and I have had a couple of great conversations about educational materials and bringing my generation together around the Bible. As it turns out, I know Mr. Brandt’s local relatives reasonably well. I spoke with him on the phone a couple of times about books, as he’s a book broker–or perhaps I should better say book-giver, as I strongly suspect he does as much giving as brokering, if not more. I have quickly developed a deep appreciation of the elder Mr. Brandt.
The Making of Books
This week, two good friends have offered me an insider look at partial manuscripts–one for critique, another simply for my own encouragement over a shared connection. So precious. I always feel a strong sense of privilege in sharing unpublished work. There’s something about it that’s deeper and more personal than a bound and cover-designed, finished product with its business suit on, so to speak. A pre-published manuscript is a book at home on a Saturday afternoon in its comfortable jeans, no formalities interfering with the visit we have together.
In the midst of this, I’ve got a deadline for getting my own writing act together, as Heather’s graciously agreed to crit Thor’s Kingdom for me starting in mid-January. I can’t think of a more suitable first reader–she even has a strong background in my research areas for this project. Sometimes these things just line up by the hand of God. I am blessed.
The Stewarding of Books
Tonight, while in our conference meeting, our four wild and unpredictable children sat quietly in a row of chairs outside the room with their library books, the netbook and Civ III. I did not hear a peep from them the entire time.
About those library books…we went into the local library, and the librarian served us coffee–made just for me and Dave–and cookies. I was so touched. Because we’re in from out of town and must be there across the dinner hour due to the kids’ evening classes, she allows us to eat our supper in the meeting room. I can go hibernate in that room with the netbook and make use of the free wi-fi. While able to hear myself type. Meanwhile, Dave will rack out on the couch just outside the door and snooze. And that’s cool with our librarian too.
The World of Books
To be a person of books in any capacity is to be a keeper of hearts, as our librarian is. As is a writer reaching out, or a critiquer reaching back. As is a kindly man bringing knowledge across the miles to those scattered hither and yon–hearts carefully wrapped in paper, dabbed with the rumpled inky marks of consideration, glued together by shared wisdom.
There’s no magic in ideas. They would waft away invisible, ceasing to exist, without a heart which holds them. That’s what books are: a backup heart for when ours fails, or passes on to the next world; and God Himself is an Author. We can store a travelling soul’s cache of sustenance here, within the many worlds of books.
