Loving Anne Lamott

I have been thinking about faith lately.  It is inevitable when I have two kids who constantly make me question my existence and purpose. 

Jon and I were both raised Catholic and head to church every so often but definitely do not attend on any type of regular basis or have an urgent need to take the kids.  We want them to have faith, however.  I feel that is necessary to ground them, make them more thoughtful, make them more empathetic and understanding people.  If it was completely up to me, I would head down south to one of those small churches to just hear the people sing like it was their last breath and dance and have fun and truly engage in a celebration.  That to me is one thousand times better than sitting in a quiet church listening to a man give a monotone sermon about Jesus.  It is so dull to me.  I have only met one priest in my entire life who had some pizzazz and “umph” that got a rise in me and made me want to continue to sit in the pew. 

I want M&M to have their hearts filled with spirit when they go to church.  I want them to feel more alive, more hopeful when they leave. 

This leads me to Anne Lamott.  She is my faith at this stage of my life.  She is my refuge – she is who makes me hopeful and makes me feel alive.  Her stories about her son, her fears, her obsessions, her downfalls are so true and so real and so raw that I can’t help but dive into them and become a part of them.  I walk away from one of her stories and I have learned something.  I have faith that all will be ok.  I smile at her comparisons.  I feel reassured that I am doing the best I can with where I am.  I see beauty in M&M even if they almost drive me to buy a one way ticket to Istanbul. 

Thank you Anne Lamott for giving me this faith that I continue to struggle to find.  Someday I may find a chapel, cathedral, temple, church, park, where I feel a part of the community and I believe in what is being expressed and taught.  Until then, I have you.  Amen!