I’ve posted about this before. In fact, there is a series of posts from me on the subject because I have this problem with books. It’s a bit like a child who overloads their plate with food at a party. They promptly take a bite from every item before feeling overfaced by the quantity of food in front of them and succumbing to feeling really quite ill!
As you can see from this picture of my lounge floor, I’m in the problem zone again. And this doesn’t even take into account the number of books on my desk at college! What’s exacerbated my malady is the fact that the college desk is now twice the size that it was last year, which means space for a lot of books. My addiction is being fuelled.
Last week, I really sought to detox by returning a lot of books to the library. It was going so well as I checked the books back into the library system. But then I had to return them to their shelves. And that was where the problem started again. For every book I returned, I was finding a new one. My only consolation on my return journey from the library to my desk was that I had returned eight books and only checked out six more. That’s a net result in the right direction, right?!
I should admit that this is actually why there are so many books on my lounge floor. You see, I am not silly enough to think that I have enough hours at my college desk to read them all as a part-time student. But something strange happens in my head, where I tell myself that I could take the extra books home and read them there. Never mind that in my OCD diary nearly every hour between Wednesday night (when I finish my college-based study hours) and Tuesday morning (when I return to my college desk) is scheduled for something else.
So the books sit on my lounge floor. Or, if someone is coming over to the house, they make it into a pile on a side table. I wouldn’t like anyone to think I lived in a total muddle, after all. There are also a few more in the spare bedroom, which are generally the titles more focused on spirituality. (Even the spirituality of men, judging by the book in the photo here! This book is not bad, by the way: I always think that it’s worth a read if it’s by Gordon MacDonald – even if a book entitled ‘When Men Think Private Thoughts’ is not what you might expect a girl to pick up and read.)
But, coming back to the point, these books are not getting read. And I am beginning to wish for some kind of technology to be invented which would enable me to read even faster than I do.
I’m tempted to end this post here. If I do, it’ll be no more than a rambling update on the ongoing book story which features regularly on my blog!
Nevertheless, here’s a question that might be worth some consideration. Especially because a lot of my readers also have a secret book problem. (Remember, I have probably been in your house or your office or worked next to you in the library so I’ve seen your book piles too…)
Anyway, here’s the question.
Do you think we can be greedy when it comes to books? Is there really a massive difference between the child whom we rebuke for having ‘eyes bigger than their stomach’ and ourselves with our books? Are books, and the learning which they offer, potentially addictive? And should Christians be wary of a creeping idolatry of books in their lives?
Or is it just me who has what might honestly be termed a problem?!