I'm noticing an interesting phenomenon.
My world is full of books...my nightstand, my backpack, my office....much of my life looks like the back room of Barnes & Noble. By habit, I read several books concurrently. On the average, I'm switching between three or four, and in times of intense craziness I will split-track between five or six. What I'm noticing is that there have been a number of books recently that I had picked up earlier and rejected that suddenly are making all kinds of sense to me.
One example is Henri J. Nouwen's "Clowing in Rome". It's a small book - probably less than 150 pgs. I read it in one sitting about a year ago and totally didn't get it. I read it slowly about a month ago and was blown away...couldn't jot down notes fast enough. Likewise, I started reading something last night that I had earlier rejected entirely, and as I read another chapter this morning I feel like calling the author and ask him if he's been stalking me for research.
I guess that part of the key of good reading is reading the right thing at the right time...some books are like eating barbeque in Minneapolis. It might be nourishment, but it's better on Beale Street in Memphis. If you're not in the right place at the right time, the book just doesn't satisfy. If you are in the right place - wowser.
Here's hoping you're reading the right stuff for today -