Literary Comfort // Life-giving Bookshelf

I’ve always found comfort in books. It isn’t necessarily an escapist effort, but more of a magical understanding. No matter the stage or season of life, there has been a book that reminds me that nothing is really new. It’s all happened before. My heartache, my elation, my experience. It’s not new.  Books have a way of understanding.

There’s comfort in books. Hardcover stories and tales, sitting on my shelf, day in and day out. They stare at me and wait until that perfect day, month, year where my heart may be aching or may be resting and in need of a familiar friend. When my emotions will be raw enough to understand whatever new piece I recognize on the page. Life brings unpredictable tidal waves of good, frightening, surreal. It’s inevitably coming and when it does,

I shuffle over to my bursting bookshelves and I pick up….

A book that reminds me to live..

A book that reminds me that I can find family anywhere and to never lose hope.

A book that allows me to see that evil will never outshine light.

A book that forms my faith.

Books that are simple and charming and sweet, for those dark, complicated moments.

Books that will never leave my memory, and might draw me closer to Christ than any Sunday sermon.

Books heavy with symbolism.

Books that will challenge my mind.

Books that I come back to again and again and again.

It’s never ending and the bookshelf is always revolving. There’s always one waiting and what a treasure hunt that is! Except in books, one will almost always find treasure of the indispensable sort.

Right now, this is what I’m reading, what I want to read, and what I want to revisit.

Currently with the kids. And starting next week.

Currently on my nightstand. This too.

Currently in my Amazon cart.

Currently in my morning devotion basket.

Currently pondering which to revisit….This or this? Suggestions welcome.


I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.”
― Jorge Luis Borges

There is no friend as loyal as a book.”
― Ernest Hemingway


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