The one who touched God

There was one speaker at the Festival of Faith and Writing that I didn’t see listed in the program. To be honest, I might have stayed home if I’d been aware. And that darn speaker isn’t one to be celebrated. But he was there. I listened to readings, thinking to myself, do I even have ...

Read More

Image

There was one speaker at the Festival of Faith and Writing that I didn’t see listed in the program. To be honest, I might have stayed home if I’d been aware.

And that darn speaker isn’t one to be celebrated. But he was there. I listened to readings, thinking to myself, do I even have one page that is good enough to stand alone, even if anyone ever wanted to hear it read out loud? I listened to talks that were so intelligent and literary that I thought, well, none of these people will ever be interested in what I have to say. There’s a small part of me that clings — stubborn as can be — to the hope that maybe, just maybe, people will see past my own words and my own failings to the One I write about. But that part was quashed down underneath lots of ugly feelings.

Anne Lamott talked about the fact that we have two speakers. We can choose which one to listen to. I had the wrong one turned up to top volume.

So as Easter approaches, during this week when the world remembers to focus on Christ, I will allow God to roll away that monstrous boulder that stands in my way. I will invite Him to inhabit my words. I will look for the folded cloth, a quiet reminder that He is coming back. I will pray for the resurrection in my heart, for new life in my soul, for a transformation of my words into something eternal.

And I will rejoice in my doubts, knowing that only one disciple got to put his hands on the Holy One. The one who refused to turn away until he was able to see for himself. The one who had the nerve to insist on experiencing Jesus personally.

Because he is the one who got to touch God.

And that, sweet Lord, is my prayer. Amen.

The amazing Anne Lamott

                Some nuggets from Anne‘s keynote speech and interview at the Festival of Faith and Writing this weekend. “It’s not ‘take and figure it out.’ It’s ‘take and eat.'” “Keep your butt in the chair. That’s the secret of life.” “Laughter is carbonated holiness.” “There’s who you are ...

Read More

1544463_10152353717237246_928536932688946560_n10171086_10152353717407246_8315575759016085147_n

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some nuggets from Anne‘s keynote speech and interview at the Festival of Faith and Writing this weekend.

“It’s not ‘take and figure it out.’ It’s ‘take and eat.'”

“Keep your butt in the chair. That’s the secret of life.”

“Laughter is carbonated holiness.”

“There’s who you are and who your best friend thinks you are.”

“The horrible part [of writing] is that you have to sit down and do it. And it is going to go badly, I promise you. You will be scared by how inept you are. But you just do it.”

“If you can’t give me an hour from the mostly meaningful BS that is our lives, then Jesus can’t even help you.”

“I get people water and I try to return phone calls. That’s my mission statement.”

“… the heartbreaking pain of being separate from yourself and God.”

“‘Anyone would understand if…’ That’s the voice of the distractor and seducer.”

“It’s very inconvenient to the world for you to insist on the right for your creative truth.”

“The great prayer of what. ever. You promised you’d never leave me and I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Newtown happened on a Friday, and we’ll know on Tuesday that grace will have been sufficient.”

“Let your heart stay broken so that the light can get out and bathe us.”

“We start where we are and then we stick together.”

[to change communities]”Subversively sneak books into their hands. Give them Mary Oliver. Give them funny Christians. Casually. As if it’s not a big deal. Because it will gradually crack the shell they’ve built around themselves.”

“The answer to that question — and I hate this. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this — is we become responsible for our own healing. We remain cracked.”

“You are loved and chosen. This is a come-as-you-are community. You’re pre-approved. We want you. It’s like me looking in the mirror at those jiggly thighs — ‘You look amazing.’ You look like the Kingdom.”

“G.O.D.: The Gift of Desperation. You may have run out of good ideas and the angels are jumping up and down, eating Ding Dongs, because you’ve finally discovered the gift of desperation.”

“I believe in crying. Crying is baptism. It moisturizes the ground at your feet. Holy ground.”

“Publishing will make you crazier than you ever imagined. But writing may bring you peace. If you keep your butt in the chair.”

Hope

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. ~Anne Lamott  ...

Read More

GRAPHIC Hope begins in the darkHope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. ~Anne Lamott

 

This website and its content are copyright of Kelly O'Dell Stanley  | © Kelly O'Dell Stanley 2019. All rights reserved.

Site design by 801red