More than ten years ago, I was working with a coach who began every one of our monthly sessions with the same question: “What are you reading?”
At first, I found her question annoying. Mainly because I’m not a big reader. I don’t breeze through novels, nor do I have a book on my nightstand. I tend to stick to reading that’s closely tied to my trade: books about theology, church leadership, Bible study resources, or spiritual formation. That’s my jive. If I have a book in my hand it’s usually for a utilitarian purpose.
So after hearing the question a few too many times, I finally said, “Why do you keep asking me that? It makes me feel like I’m failing and not gonna get my Pizza Hut Book-It Prize?” (remember those?)
My coach replied, “I ask because I want to know what your brain is doing when it’s not working. I want to know how you’re expanding your imagination, finding rest, or focusing your attention on something that’s not sermon prep or ministry planning. Sometimes the best connections between faith and life show up in unexpected places and especially when you’re not looking for them.” That reframed everything for me.
Over time, I realized that while I may not read books for pleasure in the traditional sense, I do engage with ideas and stories. I love reading article-length pieces. So news articles, interviews, op-eds, spiritual blogs, and even the occasional think-piece on a topic I didn’t know I cared about. It turns out, I do enjoy reading. I just enjoy it in smaller bites. But every now and then, I surprise myself with a book.
Earlier this summer, I was chatting with one of our soon-to-be fourth graders. He asked about my favorite book, and I deferred, but I asked about his and he lit up when he mentioned The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster. A week later, he brought me his own copy and said I could borrow it. So, I did and I am glad that I did.
The Phantom Tollbooth, for those unfamiliar, is a whimsical children’s novel about a bored young boy named Milo who unexpectedly finds himself in a fantasy land filled with wordplay, puzzles, strange characters, and big ideas. It’s part adventure story, part logic lesson, and part philosophical reflection and even a bit theological all crafted with solid prose.
Reading it reminded me not only how creative children’s literature can be, but also how deep. Milo’s journey to places like Dictionopolis and his interactions there felt strangely familiar. Like a spiritual metaphor for how we tend to easily lose sight of what matters and how wonder, curiosity, and kindness help lead us home. And wouldn’t you know it, my coach was right. I saw glimmers of grace in that book. I found myself thinking about how God invites us to ask better questions, to get unstuck, to delight in mystery. All of that from a children’s book I never would have picked up on my own—if not for one thoughtful kid in our church.
I also read comedian Nate Bargatze’s new memoir, Big Dumb Eyes. It’s a hilarious and honest collection of essays about growing up in Tennessee, being a dad, bombing on stage, and figuring out life one awkward moment at a time that I found all too relatable. And still in this book, I caught glimpses of something holy: humility, forgiveness, and the absurd grace of just being human. So here I am, two books into summer reading. Neither one of them assigned. Neither one of them meant to teach theology. And yet, both of them opened up new ways of seeing God’s handiwork in everyday life. Who knows what I’ll pick up next?
So let me ask you the same question my coach used to ask me: “What are you reading this summer?” And maybe more importantly: Where have you found unexpected connections between your reading and your faith?
One doesn’t have to be an avid reader to encounter something meaningful in a story. Sometimes a line from a memoir, a character in a novel, or even a well-timed children’s book can stir something in you that the Spirit’s been waiting to say. If something has moved you, challenged you, or made you wonder lately, I’d love to hear about it. Coffee is on me.
Grace and peace,
