If you’ve been paying attention over the past 6 months or so, you’ve probably noticed that my reflective posts have not been in the vein of My Utmost For His Highest too much lately.  In fact I would lump most of these spiritual-leaning type posts in the "why-oh-god-why" category. 

What can I say; we live in a fallen world.  I don’t like to freak people out too much with my honesty, but in my opinion it is one of the things I appreciate most about good writing: transparent honesty and authenticity.  Today I sat down and composed a few honest emails to some trusted mentors asking for their advice and input.  I liken it to firing off an emotional flare gun when you feel like you’re stranded in the desert.  I have to admit I’ve been grappling with God lately.  I want to know the answers to the WHY and the HOW and the WHAT-THE-HECK-ARE-YOU-DOING type questions I am facing in my own journey.   Just when you feel like you know a God…

There’s no need for alarm, people.  Really, there isn’t.  I think this is part of what we do as tour guides and pilgrims.  We grope, we get frustrated, we question, we doubt, we whine, we lean into God even when it feels like He is just a pocket of insubstantial air to us.  In saying this, I’m not trying to paint a happy, oh-I’m-coping-marvelously face on it.  It is a struggle.  Having faith is not a given.  Depression can tap on your shoulder even on a sunshiny day. 

I guess today I find myself on a quest to be real.  I want to be like Anne Lamott.  I think she’s a genius as a writer and a spiritual being.  I am finding solace in her honesty, her struggle, and her take on what it means to be a broken, holy, unapologetic creature.  I’ll leave this discussion, for now, with two quotes of hers that have acted as a salve to my soul today:

"Holiness has most often been revealed to me in the exquisite pun of the first syllable, in holes–in not enough help, in brokenness, mess.  High holy places, with ethereal sounds and stained glass, can massage my illusion of holiness, but in holes and lostness I can pick up the light of small ordinary progress, newly made moments flecked like pepper into the slog and disruptions.

When we did art with the kids [in Sunday school], the demons would lie down."

And here’s another one:

"At times like these, I believe, Jesus rolls up his sleeves, smiles roguishly, and thinks, ‘This is good.’  He lets me get nice and crazy, until I can’t take my own thinking and solutions for one more moment.  The next morning, I got on my knees and prayed, ‘Please, please help me.  Please let me feel You while I adjust to not getting what I was hoping for." And then I remembered Rule 1: When all else fails, follow instructions.  And Rule 2: Don’t be an asshole."