annie to her friends

i've been reading anne lamott's book grace (eventually) thoughts on faith and i love it. i think miss lamott is genius {a word i use far too frequently to refer to everything from the salsa bar at maui tacos to the way my bro uses 'zor' to finish off words (btw, try this it's awesomezor) - however she deserves the praise i give her}. i love that she's intense about almost everything. love that she is self-deprecating in a way that always points back to the goodness and faithfulness of god. i love that she sometimes reminds me of the best parts of my dad & adore her openness while fervently disliking ALL things bush administration. and, i nonetheless (or nonethemore) get to sit at her feet and listen to her life. at this juncture i would say that she is my very favorite author {sorry c.s. lewis and j.k. rowling, but a non-brit with a sorry lack of an initialed moniker has taken your place}.


this portion of her book spoke to me this week which has been a different kind of week for me...

all i knew was that help is always on the way, a hundred percent of the time. Rumi said, "someone fills the cup in front of us." i know that when i call out, god will be near, and hear, and help eventually, although it is hard to envision this at the moment ... god always hears our cries, and helps, and it's always a surprise to see what form god will take on earth: the the old joke, a man whose plane crashed in the tundra bitterly tells a bartender that god forsook him - that he waited in vain for divine intervention & would have died in the snow ... if it hadn't been for some f---ing eskimos's who came by

to the tundra!
e