link to Anne Lamott podcastMy Mom talks often of "knowing my sources." And also my brother sent me "Eat, Pray, Love" for my birthday. If ever I have known to go after my spiritual answers it is now, now, now. Deciding about school, deciding about working, fitting it all together, finding time for everyone, and linking in to God's amazing and saving work-- this all has me, well frankly, it has me on my knees.
On our trip to SF, Elli and I got a chance to take the kids to Anne Lamott's church in Marin City. Dorkily, we showed up an hour and a half before the service. Some women were setting up for the service and set us up in the nursery. A woman asked what brought us there and I explained briefly and she shrugged and said, "Oh, the Annie connection!" It was then that I decided I was going undercover with my fan-dom and that I just wanted to have Sunday worship in the space that my favorite writer does. I wanted to take the place in-- I didn't want to get my book signed, take lame photos, and turn her worship place into my museum. Elli knew I was nervous and I told her we might not even see her. When I asked the woman about the church's history she said, "This was Angela Davis' church." I was pumped.
We read and played with the kids until Service was about to begin. We headed into the church yard, across the little campus. Just then, Anne Lamott appeared, "Okay, you have kids?" She unlocks the nursery door (where we'd just come from) and gestures to Clara, "You want to play in here?" Then she says to the nursery worker, "You have a client!" I was too verklemt to say anything so I did my default thing in sticky public situations-- pretend I don't speak English. Clara, ever poised, was thrilled to go back in for another go around with the toy shopping cart. Elli stayed with Clara and the boys and I went into the sanctuary. People were filing in. My highlight was when the choir sang "Let Him In," Manny and Benicio were clapping along and our voices were just rising together. And in the prayers of the people, I remember this from Sixth Pres back in Pittsburgh, folks just say out people they want us to pray for. I always found it so vulnerable, names of elderly and sick, short explanations of people's situations-- just said out loud, dabbing the silence. One after another, someone with an ear infection, someone recovering from the flu-- and AL lifted up the youth, the teenagers of the Church. She listed them by name and said, "Yes, all of our beautiful youth." It was such an act of communal worship-- everyone's prayers said out loud. Then we sang and lifted them to God together.
Anyway, I missed the sermon but Manny, Benicio and Clara all got the Sunday School lesson. It involved blowing bubbles and throwing frisbee to illustrate the way that the Holy Spirit is not something you can see with your eyes. Like wind, though, you can see its effect. Calliope even got into the mix with the bubbles. They loved the lesson. Seeing them in that pebble church yard, chasing bubbles in the California sun was fantastic. I wanted to frame the experience around the place and not this celebrity. And in the end, I think this was best--what else could I want besides a Sunday morning where I witnessed a hero of mine, laying aside her baggage to lift her heart to God. A creature living creaturely like we all do.
Visit the link above. AL came to speak at our beloved Free Library. About halfway through the podcast, you can hear me ask a question about a mother's worry. The answer meanders but was incredibly helpful.
