Anne Lamott

Buttercup

| Marie Griffith

It felt like an unusually long winter. The damp chill in the air mixed with the persistent gloomy skies caused me to yearn for spring more than I have in years. After Mr. Groundhog saw his shadow, I counted the days and looked for signs of the warmer, sunnier days of spring.

One early morning work day in late February, I noticed this daffodil in full bloom. We’ve always called them buttercups. But these aren’t buttercups at all. I thought my grandmother called them by that name but she was a master gardener and would have known the difference.

However I came to know them as buttercups is uncertain but I know spring is right around the corner when I see these sunny colored blooms popping up from the earth.

A glimpse of the good to come helped me get through the rest of winter.

 

I am going to pay attention to the spring.
I am going to look around at all the flowers,
and look up at the hectic trees.
I am going to close my eyes and listen.   

 Anne Lamott

Rise/Set

Caught My Eye

| Marie Griffith

My husband tells me I ask more questions than any person he’s ever known. It’s probably true.

Mom used to tell me I was curious from the beginning with a genuine desire to learn all I could. She called it a zest to investigate and it landed me into some pretty funny situations when I was younger.

I’ve not lost the zest. I wonder about things. I think of a question then search for the answer. Or something catches my eye so I’ll take a closer look.

I was pulling weeds when I noticed a few mushrooms on the other side of the yard. As I walked closer I saw this little family of mushrooms. IMG_5660.jpg

I spent the next few minutes or so observing and taking several photos of the mushrooms.

Just because they caught my eye.

We came into this life so generous, alive, unarmored, & curious.  Curious, in the best, silliest, most fixated, life-giving way. ~ Anne Lamott

A Face in the Crowd

Against the Odds

| Marie Griffith

My parents’ story is an “against the odds” kind of story. They were like the rest of us, trying to make it the best they knew how. Learning to make a life, raise kids, work their jobs, and have fun while doing it. They got it right sometimes but they got it wrong other times.

I don’t hold the wrong parts against them.

We’re all learning as we go. Not one of us has it all figured out. Still we wake up each day, try again, and maybe do better than we did yesterday. But we don’t give up and we don’t give in to the idea that it will never change or that we’ll never learn. We keep at it. Sure we go through trials, we have pain and sorrow and bad things happen. But by the grace of God we make do with what we’ve learned so far.

And we forgive. Then our hearts are softened and all of the sudden we realize we see people differently. Even the ones that caused the pain.

Because you love people better when your heart is softer. And you’re better prepared for the next thing life throws at you. You’ve learned how to weep and laugh and do it with those who are weeping and laughing.

And at the end of your days, someone will say your story is an “against the odds” kind of story.

It’s funny: I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox full of shiny tools: the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, and sandpaper of patience. But then when I grew up I found that life handed you these rusty bent old tools-friendships, prayer, conscience, honesty-and said ‘do the best you can with these, they will have to do’. And mostly, against all odds, they do.

                                                                              Anne Lamott

Abrupt

Sanctuary

| Marie Griffith

The ocean is the sound of infinity, of healing, and refuge. I leave next month to go to one of my favorite places. The conversations on the seawall with family and friends, the sun and sandcastles, the breeze, the shell collecting and laughter, the stars and sea turtles. It’s all beautiful and wonderful.

We’ve stayed at the same place on the same beach for fourteen years.

It’s the place I’ve been healed, my marriage restored, and Truth revealed. There – I’ve learned to love more and judge less. There I think deeply, pray passionately, laugh wildly, and cry too.

It’s more than a beach. It’s a safe place from all the noise and responsibilities. There I’m unhurried and patient. There I can read for hours. There, nothing demands my attention. The only plan is to make no plans.

This sanctuary is a special place…….where I meet friends again, stay barefoot most of the day, and let the roar of the ocean cleanse my soul. It’s the otherness of the place that makes me unusually open to God, His creation, His word and His people. God has touched me in significant ways in that place.

I return from this mid-year refuge, refreshed and renewed. More than that…..mended. God takes the broken pieces of my heart and mind, my soul splinters, my ruined strength and puts them back together.

I come back restored.  Rested.  Ready to do normal life again.

And wait until next time.

The sound of the surf, the big washing machine of ocean, sometimes seems to rinse out my brain, or at any rate, it expands me and it slows me down.                                          

 Anne Lamott

Favorite Place

801

| Marie Griffith

Can a place change you?

Moses was changed on the mountain, Paul on the road to Damascus, and Esther in the palace.

Anne Lamott wrote that she staggered to faith from one safe place to another. One of my safe places is 801 Fretwell Avenue.

Moments happened in that metal building at the end of a dead-end street that opened my eyes and my heart. To something wonderful.  Sometimes to something terrible.  I felt deeply, was moved deeply…….and was changed.

Where joy and sorrow are shared with a diverse group of imperfect people learning to love and live well.

The church. A place I am known and loved and encouraged and challenged.

Today I celebrate all that God has done through the people in that place.  Because it’s not really the place….it’s who is there or Who is there.

It’s God in the place.

It’s the people in the place.

It’s God in the people in the place.

Dance

| Marie Griffith

Don’t look at your feet to see if you’re doing it right.  Just dance.    

Anne Lamott

My family and I had the opportunity to share an experience with some very special people Friday night. My church hosted a prom for those in our community that have never experienced one.

The decoration team did an excellent job at making the place grand. No short cuts were taken. From the entrance, to the food, the centerpieces, to the photo booth and the music, it was all beautifully and carefully thought out.  It was apparent that a team of people invested a lot of time to make a special night for those who are often overlooked.

The volunteers weren’t looking for anything in return.  But we all got something.

We saw genuine joy as the guests walked through the doors. These precious ones, all disabled in some way, overflowed with gratitude and awe. The ladies in their sparkling dresses and the guys in their suits and bow ties were unhindered as they laughed and shared their excitement. They ate the meal, posed for photos, then came my favorite part of the night.

The dancing. Not one of them sat on the side of the dance floor watching.

They were in the middle of it.

Dancing. Twirling. Clapping. Laughing.

We cheered them on as they danced and danced.

We danced too. But not as freely. Not with such abandon. Not without thinking about it.

If only we could learn to dance like that.

They should praise him with dancing.They should sing praises to him with tambourines and harps. The Lord is pleased with his people;he saves the humble. Let those who worship him rejoice in his glory.Let them sing for joy even in bed!  

Psalm 149:3-5  NCV

 

In response to the Daily Post’s Rhythmic.

Write

| Marie Griffith

Anne Lamott wrote in Bird by Bird  “To be a good writer, you not only have to write a great deal but you have to care. You do not have to have a complicated moral philosophy. But a writer always tries, I think, to be part of the solution, to understand a little about life and to pass it on”.

I’ve always written…….in a journal, notes to friends, poems, and prayers. I want others to read what I write, but not because I think I have some remarkable message to share. But, I do know things and my perspective on life will definitely be different from yours. If my experiences teach you something, reveal a truth, make you think about something you’ve never thought about before, or simply make you feel less alone, that is enough.

I write to share what I’ve learned, and struggled with. Or what makes me laugh. What moves me or changes me. But mostly what I struggle with. I share it so you’ll know you’re not the only one. I end up feeling less alone, too.

I’ve done what I set out to do if I’ve caused that middle-aged teacher to feel less guilty about his anger over caring for his widowed father while caring for his own family.

Or maybe the girl that’s on her 5th try into the new year to make good on her resolution to lose weight. Maybe she feels hopeful and decides to press on because of something I put out there. Or maybe instead she decides she likes her curves. Either way, she’s better.

If I’ve given you the courage to ask for a raise, I’ve done what I hope to do.

I write to encourage, inspire, and connect. To give hope, to make you ponder a question you’ve never asked before, to make you laugh or cry. To help unlock a memory stored away. I write to help you see someone in a new way, or help start the journey of forgiving, or put into words what you can’t seem to.

I write to pass it on.

In response to the Daily Post’s Guilty.

801

| Marie Griffith

Can a place change you?

Moses was changed on the mountain, Paul on the road to Damascus, and Esther in the palace.

Anne Lamott wrote that she staggered to faith from one safe place to another. One of my safe places is 801 Fretwell Avenue.  Moments happened in that metal building at the end of a dead-end street that opened my eyes and my heart. To something wonderful.  Sometimes to something terrible.  I felt deeply, was moved deeply…….and was changed.

My church. A place I am known and loved and encouraged and challenged.  The people who know me, love me, encourage and challenge me.

Today I celebrate all that God has done through the people in that place.  Because it’s not really the place….it’s who is there or Who is there. It’s God in the place. It’s the people in the place. It’s God in the people in the place.

I remember and praise God for all He has done.  But even more so, I eagerly anticipate what God is going to do!