I decided that the love that stories stirred in me didn’t contribute to my goal of being a passionate pursuer of God. So I dropped them. Sure, I kept reading and filling my bookshelves, but I limited myself only to practical books I thought would grow my faith. Good and rich books, but not the stories that once drew me in and painted pictures on my mind. This was a reflection of the shift my life was taking: Less time getting lost in story, more time zeroing in on what I might produce.
