In case you haven’t guessed, I like books. All kinds of books. And I like what they can do for me.
I enjoy a well-written novel that can keep me turning pages long past my bedtime, eager to find out what happens next.
I love when a book teaches me something new, fascinating me with details and information I never heard before.
But there’s something else I often want books to do for me:
I want books to fix me.
I have countless books about the craft of writing because I’m sure that one of them is going to turn me into a fantastic writer, or even a published novelist. I regularly pick up parenting books because I’m convinced they’ll give me the “perfect” tools to become a “perfect” parent. I read book after book from the Christian Living section of the bookstore, looking for the key to being more godly, more consistent in my prayer life, more loving, more giving.
The thing is, there’s nothing inherently wrong with reading these books. They can teach me things and they can offer encouragement and practical advice.
But they’re not going to do the hard work for me. They’re not going to change me.
No book is going to instantly transform me into a mom who handles every discipline scenario with perfect wisdom and grace.
No book is going to push me out of bed in the morning and whisper into my ear that I need to start my day in prayer.
No book is going to be my writing task-master, forcing me to put words on paper even when I don’t feel like it.
The books might give me some good ideas, but they’re not going to do the work for me.
(Wouldn’t it be nice, though, if we could read a parenting book before bed, and wake up better parents without any effort on our part?)
I’ve been in denial about this issue, I think. It’s only recently that I admitted to myself that I’m looking for some kind of magic cure when I pick up the latest nonfiction that promises to have all the answers and tactics I need.
And so lately, instead of picking up that book, I’ve been talking to myself, reminding myself that the book — whatever this latest one is — is not going to fix me. There is no instant, magic cure.
But wait, please don’t think I’m ending on this on a depressing note.
There is hope for change and progress…I can hope for improvement in my life, little by little. I just can’t expect it to happen as a result of the small act of reading a few pages.
I need to do a few other things:
- Pray. Ultimately, the most important changes in my life are going to happen through God’s work in my heart and in my life. The things I most need and desire come as a result of the Holy Spirit cultivating them in me. Things like love, joy, patience, self-control. (Sound familiar? See Galatians 5:22-23. I need them all.) I need to pray for God to work in me and I need to nurture my relationship with Him above all else.
- Make the most important Book a priority. There is one book that is not magic, but supernatural. The Bible is “living and active” and because it is the Word of God, it can impact me in ways no other book can. I need to put this book and the things it says above every other book on my shelves.
- Exercise discipline, and apply the things I’ve already learned. Hoping to change and praying for change is foolish if I plan to indulge the same old bad habits and ignore the things I know I need to do. Reading about serving others only gets me so far…at some point, I need to actually get off the couch and serve someone. Reading about writing is nice, but will not help one bit if I don’t put my fingers on the keyboard and write something.
In case you’re my husband and you’re now thinking, “Excellent! Katrina won’t be buying any more books!” I’m afraid you’re wrong. See, I’m not saying that the books I enjoy aren’t good or helpful. I’m just saying that they’re not the ultimate solution to my problems. They’re just a starting place. Or maybe more of an in-between place — somewhere between the desire for change and the change itself.
I might still pick up some of those books. I’ll just be thinking of them a bit differently now.














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