Culling the Books

King Solomon opined long ago, “of the making of books there is no end.”

Of the owning of books there is no end, either, or at least it seems that way to me.

After emptying the living room to paint, we’re now refilling the bookshelves and that means we’re culling the books at our house.

We’re throwing away the out-of-date (a 1962 24-volume Encyclopedia Brittanica), passing along the outgrown (art I no longer like), and shaking our heads over the outlandish (“who bought this book?”). It’s an exhausting process. I’ve gone through three boxes so far and now have one empty box, one full box and piles of books to be reexamined.

27 boxes to go.

Some of these books simply stump me. What do I do with 35 years of Bible study materials? I’ve got notebooks filled with lessons I’ve written and taught, spiral-bound studies I’ve filled with ideas and all the lecture notes from Precepts, Lifelight, BSF, countless IVP studies and Romans in several different formats.

I wrote my name on the inside front page of all these studies and included the location and date. To browse the pages is to return to my past: plumeria scent from the Hawai’i studies; efficient organization from the Monterey classes; the realization I’m rebellious at heart from the BSF classes in Washington.

And here’s a dated study in a dull gold notebook: 1970’s Philosophy of Christian Womanhood.

The first month we were married, I joined this study in Orlando, Florida and as a newlywed, got lessons on such topics as “The Male Ego,” “The Man’s Role,” “When Things Go Wrong” and “The Christian Woman Herself.”

After 35 years, I don’t think I need this anymore.

I’ve decided to pass along a lot of the Christian books to our church library. With all the moving we did over the years, I seldom passed on books that were important to me–for fear I’d never find them again. But we’ve been here 10 years now. I think I can safely give them to our current church with confidence they’ll be available if I should ever remember something I need to look up.

My thoughts on some subjects have changed over the years. I’m going to throw away all the Frank Schaeffer books since he’s disowned them himself. I’m going to pass along the dictionaries–I’ve not cracked open a dictionary in years since it’s so much easier to highlight, right click and have the definition appear. I’m not sure about the Strong’s Concordance–I look up everything on-line these days, but Bible Gateway doesn’t handle word usage as well as I like.

One shelf is easy: comfort novels and books I’ve loved. I’ve got Mary Stewart, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Robert K. Massie, Elisabeth Ogilvie, Eva Ibbotson, Olga Ilyin and Mary Elgin. Some of these books are tattered and torn from rereading. A number are spiral-bound copies of books out of print.

I’m pleased to have one shelf devoted to books written by people I know: Gayle Roper, Sarah Sundin, Jill Eileen Smith, Lynn Vincent, Jane Gangi, Richard Peck.

And now we’re laughing we should reserve a spot for my own book. “Keep working on filling that shelf,” my husband said this evening.

It’s hard to let go, though, of books I’ve loved but which I have no use for now. I’m looking at the Solzhenitsyns and wondering if I’ll ever read them. Shouldn’t I pass them along, then, to someone who will?

But someday, I may break a leg and need to spend weeks lying down with my leg. Shouldn’t I hang on to books to read then, just in case I can’t find anything else?

Many of the books currently stacked in the “let’s think about this one” pile may end up back on the shelves.

Sometimes it’s just too hard to say good bye to an old friend.

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