Book Lust. . .

Before I retired, I did not worry about where to put my books.  I merely got rid of a chair or two and added another bookcase to my crowded office.  Now I have the same lust for books but less shelf space.  It has created in me a lust for that which I cannot have.  It used to be how much I could afford was that which governed the size of my library.  Now it is how much I can store.  This has left me with a profound lust that makes it hard to face my books.  I feel guilty when I lust for a volume I do not have room for but want more than I care to admit while looking at the books already on my shelf I have not yet read.  Woe for me.

I got a notice from a bookseller I have known for a long time and it gave hint to a clearance sale in process.  The truth is I could not help myself.  I looked at the pages of offering on their website and lusted after volumes I did not need and probably do not have time left in my life to read but I wanted them.  I wanted them with a powerful yearning that made it easy to forget the books I had which lay begging to be opened.  They were once the same.  I wanted them at one point the way I want the new volumes I have surveyed.  I valued them over those already on my shelves the way I how valued the new offerings over my old, worn, covers.  Wretched man that I am!

Who will save me from this body of sin and lust?  That is the problem.  I am not at all sure I want to be saved.  Unlike my children who have grown up and lead their own lives, books live quietly on my shelves waiting for my touch and for the scan of my eye.  They will not abandon me even when I have lusted for the new I do not have or the old I did not think I would find.  It might seem repentance is in order but I fear I would rather keep on lusting than give it all up.  It is sort of like the kid who loves the small gift he has received but wonders if that big box under the tree just might be his also.  Oh, well.  I could probably move a few things around and find space for a few more.  What do you think?