Of late, I have noticed how, like the clothes in my closet, the print in my books has shrunk. On occasion, when no one other than Dianne or Sam can see me, I use my handy-dandy lighted magnifying glass. That’s usually for periodicals and the mighty New York Times Sunday edition.

And, no, to the glare of at length reading on-screen-online. Quick information and image searches are terrific but to go deep and sink in, give my aging Boomer eyes and hands: paper.

I have wondered along with the shrinkage of print, has the average pages in books increased. I have mused that with the ease of word processing – quickie corrections and text moving - no longer bound to the pushups of typewriters, or hand cramps of legal pads, do authors write longer books? In earlier days, would they have gotten it done in 300 or so pages instead of cruising to 400-500+ pages?

With the hurriedness of post-modern times, with even less time to read, do books have more pages to be read?

Well, wrong. Quick check with Professor Google! For the past 10 or so years books have gotten 42% shorter. Most books are between 200 and 400 pages.

So, that brings me to the existential question of why the books I am paging through, as well as the ones on my to-be-read stack, pretty much range on the high side of 400 pages? First world dilemma.

Present examples are Jon Meacham’s masterful LET THERE BE LIGHT on Lincoln, 421; Imani Perry’s keen insights in SOUTH TO AMERICA, 383; Bono’s surprisingly good autobiography SURRENDER, 559; and master spy thriller John LeCarre’s collected letters, A PERFECT SPY, 632. Whew! There's more, but that is enough.

I am grateful that my fun reading who-dunnit-mysteries from such as Michael Connelly and John Grisham, along with the delightful dog related mysteries of David Rosenfelt and Spencer Quinn at least have the mercy of less print-crammed pages.

There was a time when I felt a moral imperative to finish every book I started. I slogged through them – most times glad I did – other times feeling a bit of reader’s remorse.

For years I kept a list on the back page of my then (now long gone) paper calendars of the books I finished. My goal was fifty books a year. That’s no biggie for a fast reader, which I decidedly am not.

My friend-mentor-hero Jerry Sisson would write his name and the date on the last page of a book when he completed reading it.

For us, it was a sort of personal certification/celebration of getting something finished in the never finishedness of pastoral life.

Not too long ago, something theologian Martin Marty wrote a number of years ago ‘kabonged’ in my memory.

Marty, not only a reader of many books, but also author of his share of books, said as he aged, it dawned he would never be able to read all the books he wanted to read, plus all the ones he wanted to re-read.

Like my neckties, with books, so many and so little time:

I have given myself permission not to finish every book I start. Though a good read, I have decided I know enough about Bono 150 pages in.

I don’t remember when I ever read one book at a time, which stretches out when a book gets finished…and likely contributes to unfinished books.

Speaking of unfinished books. By great effort and much help, my one finished book PEOPLE OF INTEGRITY made the Barely Seller List, and is now shrinking in the rearview mirror of time.

Recently, with the help of my friend and editor Amy Gonzalez, the gleaning of writings for the www.Faces-and-Books.com Blog may be the bridge to another book with that name: FACES AND BOOKS.

I have some pages and glimmers for another effort with a projected title: DOGS: REFLECTIONS ON GRIEF, GRACE, AND GRATITUDE. Stay tuned but don’t hold your breath for either of the above.

A couple weeks ago I searched my shelves for yet another elusive book: the famous I AND THOU by theologian and philosopher Martin Buber (1878-1965). I wanted to re-read at least some of it.

Didn’t find it. Yet again, thanks to a quick trip to Google Land, I discovered a quote I had not seen before. It had the ring and sting of truth for a faces and books guy like me.

“Here is an infallible test. Imagine yourself in a situation where you are alone, wholly alone on earth, and you are offered one of the two: books or people.

“I often hear people prizing their solitude, but that is only because there are still others somewhere on earth, even though in the far distance.

I knew nothing of books when I came forth from the womb of my mother, and I shall die without books, with another human hand in my own.

I do, indeed, close my door at times and surrender myself to a book, but only because I can open the door again and see a human being looking at me.”

― Martin Buber, Meetings: Autobiographical Fragments

The preponderance of us will likely leave our earth time with the books and THE book of our life unfinished. So, with grace and effort, let us savor the faces we get to see, the pages we get to read, and each day we get to wake up.