I know that our lives are meant to be a series of lessons, one after the other. Sometimes they unfold slowly, obscured by the dailiness of it all. Other times they’re put squarely in your path.

That’s what happened to me one morning this summer, as I rushed to get to an important early meeting at work. I was rounding a curve in my small neighborhood—going a little too fast, I’m sure—when something in the road caught my eye. As I drove past it on toward the entrance, I kept thinking to myself:

What was that? It swear looked like a book, lying in the middle of the road. An open book. What book is it? How did it get there? What page is it open to?

Needless to say, I turned around, to find out. And there it was. Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis.

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You know how it is when something keeps insisting itself to you? I’ve never read any C.S. Lewis, but I’ve had it on my book list since meeting my friend Pam, one of the great blessings that has come to my life in the past few years. Pam is smart, quick, decisive—traits I greatly admire—and she is a voracious reader. We often talk books and religion, and suffice it to say she eats my lunch on both topics. How many times has she said to me: You must read Lewis. You must.

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So there was Lewis, lying so directly in my path I had to swerve to not run over him. And still he stayed on my “to read” list because I was busy with other things.

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Tonight marks the beginning of a new year and a new Wednesday night study at my church. I had to smile as Dr. Mike announced the topic to our congregation last Sunday:

C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

 30 Days of Grace