This is a book to read slowly ... but maybe not so slowly as I did. It was sitting half-read on my bookshelf for about a year. The thing is, Henry Nouwen writes in such a way that you HAVE to read his writing very slowly, it's deceptively simple and you'll skate right past the importance of it unless you savor each word. I took that to an extreme, but I guess better that than to read it too fast. This book is a collection of Nouwen's writings that was made by someone else after he died in the mid-90's, and it does read like a collection, with many jumps and lots of white space, but it works. It's very good and the kind of thing you need to read from time to time just to try and correct mental habits of thinking. This book is itself a spritual discipline (and a lot more tolerable than a hairshirt).