This Spring Break I finally succumbed.
I gave way. I broke down. I finally did it.
I learned to crochet. I learned sitting on a worn couch and on a rainy porch for hours.
I learned from my friend. I learned because I listened. Because I asked questions. Because I got it wrong. Because I asked for help.
So. Many. Times.
And still I am not perfect. Honestly, I am not even sure what I am doing half of the time. But I keep going. Because I love it. Because it matters to me that I am capable of learning. That I not give in to the conceit or the mirage that I know all I need to know.
I learned from my friend. I learned because I listened. Because I asked questions. Because I got it wrong. Because I asked for help.
So. Many. Times.
And still I am not perfect. Honestly, I am not even sure what I am doing half of the time. But I keep going. Because I love it. Because it matters to me that I am capable of learning. That I not give in to the conceit or the mirage that I know all I need to know.
Today I read this post by Shauna Niequist on meeting Anne Lamott (who changed her life, who changed mine.)
And through misty, leaky eyes I read these words:
It seems obvious now, now that we have Elizabeth Gilbert and Lauren Winner and loads of other great women writers talking about faith and life and everything else. But Anne Lamott, in my view, is the first, and the best, and the one we’re all paying homage to when we write about our faith in honest and unguarded ways, using humor and honesty to drop people’s defenses and invite them into the loveliness and the mess.
… she’s the one. The one who gave me a picture of WHAT I WANTED TO BE, what I wanted to do with my life, and what I wanted to do with my words. She’s the one who made me think a girl like me could make something beautiful and meaningful, when I thought that work was only being done by men who knew all the answers, not by women who had lots of questions.
I am one of those women. One of the ones with lots of question who was set free by Anne’s voice and heart. I am a girl who tries to weave faith and memories and humor and the simple beauty of everyday task and the hidden wonders of repetitiveness observances into some sort of story that tells God’s story, my story and where, perhaps if I am so blessed, you will see yours too.
But lately the questions seem huge. The frustrations and road blocks insurmountable. I feel myself retreating, hiding and protecting. “I hate first steps. I just want to be THERE” said Julia on the tv show SMASH. “YES!” I holler at the screen. “YES! I hate first steps. She gets it!”
But deep down I know that first steps are the only path. I know that I will have to start over. Over and over and over. With each mistake, each impatient word snapped, each curse muttered under my breath, each hope raised and dashed, each complaint logged, I have confess that I need help. I have to confess my ungratefulness, my falling down.
And then I have to stop, listen for direction, and start again.
But deep down I know that first steps are the only path. I know that I will have to start over. Over and over and over. With each mistake, each impatient word snapped, each curse muttered under my breath, each hope raised and dashed, each complaint logged, I have confess that I need help. I have to confess my ungratefulness, my falling down.
And then I have to stop, listen for direction, and start again.
If there is anyone who gets this it is Anne. And that is why I love her. And Shauna. She get’s it too.
And so do Witt and Wells as they sing:
Bare feet stepping on glass
We break along life’s paths
Our fear and loss, we bring it all to you
Soul-breather, making all things new.
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If you are still searching for a unique or new way to connect with and observe the season of Lent, I would highly recommend this 5 song collection, Image of God from Witt and Wells which has become my soundtrack for this season. Each week I will be sharing something from these beautiful songs and how they are working their way into my heart and prayers.
After reading your post I realized how much Anne Lamont has influenced my life. I have one of her books I have not fit into my to read pile and I think I will read it now in this lenten season. I have missed her voice. On the subject of crochet. I have been fighting the urge to learn because I dont need one more thing to do but I love the beautiful granny square throws I see in blogs and Pinterest. Good luck with your creation! Thanks for this post.
Most people hate finishing. I get excited at the beginnings. Then, I run out of gas before it is done. When I learned to crochet- I had a friend doing it with me. We found that the directions were goofy. We would have to tell each other- oh, it means do this, then stop, and do this…etc. I still have to get y beginning instructions out to remember the stitches. I am wanting to do a bun cover.-growing hair out.Love your blog. Auntie T. PS I had your cranny pompom jelly with cream cheese on whole wheat today. MMMMM!
I love your heart. He is indeed making beautiful things out of dust; out of fragile, dirty, imperfect us.
When I saw the little thumbnail picture for this post, I thought it was a shattered glass mosaic. It's not, but still it seems appropriate that the first thing that came to mind was this:
We must be willing to allow him to break us. Because when we stand back at the end of our lives we will clearly see the beautiful mosaic he made with the broken peices.
Beautiful post!! I have never heard of Anne Lamott, so thank you! 🙂 We serve an amazing God!! xo Heather