I have a pile of books next to our bed. I have a pile of books in my office. I have a pile of books here above my desk at home.

I like to read. I like books.

I could list them for you. It would sound impressive.

Until you ask me about the books.

Then I would have to acknowledge that I haven’t read all of  them. They are on my reading list. “I am getting to that one next.”  “I know I have to read that one soon.”

If I were to be honest, I would have to admit that I have more time to buy books than to read them. If I were honest, I would have to admit that I like how it sounds to be able to say, “Yes, I’ve got that book,” — current, engaged, thoughtful, busy. If I were honest, I’d have to admit that a book on the reading list is irrelevant. It may shape your impression of me, or even my impression of myself, but it won’t shape me.

I’ve been thinking about this gap between books listed and books read for the past couple weeks, ever since my pastor and friend had us reading about Joshua.

After Moses is dead, God tells Joshua that he is the leader. God says, among other things,

Study this Book of Instruction continually. Meditate on it day and night so you will be sure to obey everything written in it. Only then will you prosper and succeed in all you do.

A handful of books. Read regularly. Thought about constantly. Wrestled with, applied, learned, lived.

That’s what God was telling Joshua would direct him, shape him, guide him.

Not books on a shelf.

Apparently, just having a Bible didn’t count. Working to understand it does.