I'm sitting here in the dark, only the light of my laptop screen and a small candle burning behind me. I'm sipping mango-tangerine juice, and trying to figure out how to start this post. In the background, U2 plays.
I've been listening to U2 a lot again lately. I go through cycles of needing just that sort of music.
I've been reading Anne Lamott again this last week or so. This is my second or third time through "Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith". I read Anne Lamott when I need to be grounded. I read her when what I need more desperately than anything is the assurance that a life lived in relationship with Jesus, a spiritual life is not about angelic perfection. Instead, it is earthy, messy, confusing, and very, very normal. Spirituality in the smallest of moments, the little things, long walks and a hug from a friend. I read Anne Lamott when I need to be reassured that somewhere out there, there are wild, fun, irreverent people, who love Jesus desperately, meet Him intelligently, but also simply.
I listen to U2 for these same sorts of reasons.
Because somehow, when I read Lamott's books, or listen to U2 play, my heart quiets and begins to pray again.
So this last week and a bit I've been basking in the comfort of U2 and Anne Lamott, sometimes together, sometimes apart. I've needed to reground myself again lately, in the face of the stuff of life. And to find again the truth that Jesus really loves the very messy, ugly, normal moments of daily life, and will meet with me in them, usually when I least expect it.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
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