I treat this baby as if her arrival will be the end of my brain, but I really do feel like time is running out for reading good, stimulating literature. I feel like as soon as she arrives, my brain will not be able to digest anything deeper than Winnie the Pooh and My First Book of Colours. So I've gone on a reading frenzy.
I started reading Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray over the weekend. It's a fairly thick book (nearly 700 pages I think), and I'm afraid if I don't read it now, I won't get another chance until I'm 43.
I was also given a book by a friend to read, which actually looks a bit 'chick lit', which I sort of detest with all my heart and soul, but because she leant it to me with such high praises and assurances of my adoration (we'll see), I feel I should certainly read it, if not just to give it a shot.
I'm also trying my hardest to get through this Captivating by John and Stasi (gah that second 's'!) Eldredge, which again I'm reading by obligation. It's the 'big thing' right now at my church - all the ladies are reading it! - so I feel obligated to read it too. (But if they all jumped over a cliff, I'd stay with my own two heels planted firmly on steady ground.) Maybe I'm reading it just so I can say, 'This is total crap' with personal experiential proof. Ok, it's not total crap, there are some good bits, and I can see how it can really be a great book for some women, but for me? I just feel casually insulted by the insinuation that a woman's deepest desires are to be loved, beautiful and 'part of a great adventure'. And that this is what God made them for. What about our desires to gain wisdom and knowledge, to make the world a better place and to, oh I don't know, be godly and glorify God in everything we do? Might we have those desires? Might we also have been made for glorifying God, not just to be pretty? (I know I'm very much oversimplifying the book, but really, if I were to list my top three deepest desires, I don't think any of Stasi's three would come to mind.) I also feel that the book is better for women who have had some serious emotional tragedies in their life, but since I've never really had anything like that, I don't really think I have any 'deep wounds' that need to be 'healed'. But anyway, if so many women really do love it, there has to be a reason so I'm going to try to finish it.
Then, at Bible study on Wednesday, a friend gave me a copy of Rob Bell's (Mars Hill, Grand Rapids, MI) Velvet Elvis. I've been wanting to read this, so I was pleasantly surprised that he had actually bought me a copy for me and Scott to read. So I've started it, too, and am really enjoying it.
I've also got a book coming from Amazon.co.uk about the Jewish roots of Christianity, which I am very much looking forward to receiving. (It was due over a week ago, so I phoned, and they're sending me a replacement - and they also gave me a £7.50 voucher for the inconvenience!)
And this doesn't even begin to mention the books I want to re-read. Before the baby comes, I'd really like to reread Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy and In the Face of God by Michael Horton.
Oh yeah, and I borrowed two books on the Book of Revelation (you know, like from the Bible) from one of the overseers at church, so I'd like to read them along with Revelation, which is yet again another book (or three) to add to the list.
And I might as well also mention I'm reading and rereading Esther (again, you know, from the Bible) over and over because I have to speak on Esther at the Ladies' Evening this coming Monday night. Which isn't actually heavy reading, but it is still a lot of reading that takes priority over all my other reading until Monday is over.
So anyway, yeah, books. I love them. Maybe Schmooker will actually appreciate me reading to her from Anna Karenina while she's an infant? It's never too early to start them out on good things, you know.
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