On Having Faith with Anne Lamott

I am reading, for the third time, a book that helps when life feels out of kilter, Anne Lamott's Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith. Anne shares her feelings of hopelessness about the devastation left in the wake of the Bush presidency, which is how I've been feeling lately. I just don't see any way out of the mess our country is in, and it scares me. Anne writes about how afraid she is. I can identify with that. She also writes about how she finds comfort in her faith. I wanted to be reminded that I am not alone. It's not that we choose to feel afraid; it is that the fear sneaks up on us when we're distracted, and once it's present we have to deal with it. My first line of defense is a good book by someone who has been where I am and artfully shares their struggle.

So each night before bed I read a few chapters of Plan B. I get reacquainted with Annie's church friends, the challenge of parenting a teen-ager, her difficult relationship with her mother, how she feels about her changing body, and what she does when she doesn't know what to do. I treasure her insights and adore her honesty. With each read something new captures my attention and answers a question I thought was unanswerable.

My problem is that I am filled with doubt about where I'm headed and what I'm supposed to be doing. I have tried to hang on and be patient and do the next right thing. I feel like I am getting nowhere. Time is passing and I'm spinning in circles.

Last night I read Anne's words, "I have a lot of faith. But I am also afraid a lot, and have no real certainty about anything. I remembered something Father Tom had told me - that the opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty" (p. 256-57). I went back and read that again. I thought about how uncertain I've been feeling about everything and how afraid I feel sometimes.

Then Anne writes, "Certainty is missing the point entirely. Faith includes noticing the mess, the emptiness and discomfort, and letting it be there until some light returns. Faith also means reaching deeply within, for the sense one was born with, the sense, for example, to go for a walk" (p. 257). And then I smiled. My spontaneous walks and the impulse to do four loads of laundry are examples of my faith ~ faith that I will survive the moment, overcome the fear, and, at the very least, move my body for a half hour and have clean underwear.

And for a moment I felt better. Maybe that's the most I can hope for, to feel better one moment at a time.