My perfect world. Books, books, and more books.

This is a picture of my perfect world.

Books, books, and more books.

I could spend many happy (contented) hours in a room alone with this many books before I would even begin to start feeling lonely.

That said, is this a good or negative admission?

On the one hand, being content is a good thing.

On the other hand, being content to endlessly indulge in my favorite pastime is decidedly selfish if I’m ignoring the needs of others (which I can quite easily slip into doing when I’m overtired, overworked, overcommited, overwrought).

In any or all of these states, being alone can just feel better (and safer).

But it doesn’t make it right.

Driving home the other day (after a day of feeling all of the stated above adjectives) I was listening to a song by Matthew West titled, My Own Little World. While I’ve heard this song a number of times before, something about my exhausted mood collided with the lyrics of West’s message and it challenged me to get past my inclination for surrounding myself with comfort zones (no matter how tired or uncomfortable I am).

West sang these words —

In my own little world it hardly ever rains,
I’ve never gone hungry or always felt safe.
I got some money in my pocket, shoes on my feet.
In my own little world population me.

I try to stay awake through Sunday morning church.
I throw a twenty in the plate but I never give ’til it hurts.
And I turn off the news when I don’t like what I see,
It’s easy to do when it’s population me.

Refrain —

What if there’s a bigger picture?
What if I’m missing out?
What if there’s a greater purpose I could be living right now,
Outside my own little world

Stopped at a red light looked out my window,
Outside the car, saw a sign said, “Help this homeless widow.”
Just above the sign was the face of a human.
I thought to my myself, “God, what have I been doing?”
So I rolled down the window and I looked her in the eye.
Oh, how many times have I just passed her by?
I gave her some money then I drove on through
In my own little world, there’s population two.

The song continues on…but his last line hasn’t left me (nor should it).

Give me open hands and open doors…and let me see,
That my own little world is not about me.

Back to the Refrain and then West closes it out —

I don’t want to miss what matters.

Agreed. But what matters most is so easily missed in America (especially here).


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