One of my hobbies is hanging out at bookstores. I love strolling the ailes and looking at all the books. I take my time. I walk slowly. I read the spines. Sometimes an authors name jumps out at me. I’ll flip through the tome and place it back on the shelf. Sometimes it is the title that leaps off the shelf and into my curious hands. And yes, sometimes I do judge a book by its cover. Often I have found great books just by wandering in the bookstore. I remember finding an incredible book back in high school this way. I had been in the bookstore for quite a while. I glanced at the top shelf and saw a book out of place. I picked it up and the book spoke to me. It was a great primer on living the life of Jesus. A little no name book that probably only 4 other people have read changed my life. I seem to have a knack for finding those kinds of books right when I need them. Last night I found a book in the same way. I had been in the store for about a half hour. I was looking for a new book by N.T. Wright that I though had been released yesterday. Alas, no Wright for me.

I kept walking through the store and then I saw him. Jesus was staring at me (well, a picture of Jesus was looking at me). I picked up the book with the oil painting of Jesus on the cover and began to flip through it. It was a book on ministering effectively in the world today. This book looked to be just what I needed. I was familiar with the author having read one of his other book before so I bought it. I read through the introduction last night and it gave me some perspective. I underlined this passage because it spoke directly to me and my situation,

For the minister is called to recognize the sufferings of his time in his own heart and make tat recognition the starting point of his service. Whether he tries to enter into a dislocated world, relate to a convulsive generation, or speak to a dying man, his service will not be percieved as authentic unless it comes from a heart wounded by the suffering about which he speaks.

I think I will learn a lot from The Wounded Healer by Henri Nouwn.