Our Father’s Story

Do you see the difference between making an isolated prayer request and praying in context of the story that God is weaving? God answered our prayer for Kim to speak, but the answer was inseparable from repenting, serving, managing, and waiting. Most of our prayers are answered in the context of the larger story that God is weaving.

Living in our Father’s story means living in tension. (Will the book get written? How can Kim speak if she can’t do sentence structure?) After all, tension and overwhelming obstacles make for a good story! How boring life would be if prayer worked like magic. There’d be no relationship with God, no victory over little pockets of evil. . . .

Look for the Storyteller. Look for his hand, and then pray in light of what you are seeing. . . .

When the story isn’t going your way, ask yourself, What is God doing? Be on the lookout for strange gifts. God loves to surprise us with babies in swaddling clothes lying in mangers.

Sometimes when we say “God is silent,” what’s really going on is that he hasn’t told the story the way we wanted it told. He will be silent when we want him to fill in the blanks of the story we are creating. But with his own stories, the ones we live in, he is seldom silent.

— Paul E. Miller, A Praying Life, p. 201

American Socialism

The alienation, the downright visceral frustration, of the new American ideologues, the bone in their craw, is the unacknowledged fact that America has never been an especially capitalist country. The postal system, the land grant provision for public education, the national park system, the Homestead Act, the graduated income tax, the Social Security system, the G. I. Bill — all of these were and are massive distributions or redistributions of wealth meant to benefit the population at large. Even “the electrification of the countryside,” Lenin’s great and unrealized dream, was achieved in America by a federal program begun in 1936. Europeans are generally unaware of the degree to which individual state governments provide education, health care, libraries, and other services that complement or supplement federal programs, as do counties, cities, and other political entities. Since many American states are larger than many countries, their contributions are by no means inconsiderable.

— Marilynne Robinson, When I Was a Child, I Read Books, p. 50-51

God’s Generosity

Gorgeous, amazing things come into our lives when we are paying attention: mangoes, grandnieces, Bach, ponds. This happens more often when we have as little expectation as possible. If you say, “Well, that’s pretty much what I thought I’d see,” you are in trouble. At that point, you have to ask yourself why you are even here. And if I were you, I would pray “Help.” (See earlier chapter.) Astonishing material and revelation appear in our lives all the time. Let it be. Unto us, so much is given. We just have to be open for business.

Sometimes — oh, just once in a blue moon — I resist being receptive to God’s generosity, because I’m busy with a project and trying to manipulate Him or Her into helping me with it, or with getting my toys fixed or any major discomfort to pass. But God is not a banker or a bean counter. God gives us even more, which is so subversive. God just gives, to us, to you and me. I mean, look at us! Yikes.

God keeps giving, forgiving, and inviting us back. My friend Tom says this is a scandal, and that God has no common sense. God doesn’t say: “I have had it this time. You have taken this course four times and you flunked again. What a joke.” We get to keep starting over. Lives change, sometimes quickly, but usually slowly.

— Anne Lamott, Help Thanks Wow: The Three Essential Prayers, p. 85-86

Not at the Mercy of Our Thoughts

Not being at the mercy of our thoughts is akin to not being at the mercy of the reactions we get from others regarding our thoughts. Our thoughts are what we have created them to be, and it’s foolish to ever say, “I can’t help it, that’s just how I am,” in regard to any thought or situation that has ensnared us. Indeed, we have willingly adopted every thought we harbor.

We are always very much in control of what we say, think, and do. This idea has been expressed time and time again in this book, but it bears repeating because we are so quick to give in to the idea that we can’t take charge of who we are becoming. Every thought we entertain is, in fact, molding us into the people we are. We are works in progress, some say, and that’s good: it means we don’t have to be perfect. Simply deciding to monitor our thoughts, to change their focus, and to quash any one of them that doesn’t add to the peace and joy of the world around us is an excellent contribution we might consider making on a daily basis.

There is great joy in the practice of stopping a negative thought midsentence and refocusing it. Not being in its clutches gives us hope for any number of changes we might want to make in our lives. This is a simple place to begin; our mind is constantly thinking, after all. And we can be constantly refocusing.

— Karen Casey, Let Go Now, p. 122

Experience on the Page

Those two books — and all the great books I was reading — were about the complexity and entirety of the human experience. About the things we wish to forget and those we want more and more of. About how we react and how we wish we could react. Books are experience, the words of authors proving the solace of love, the fulfillment of family, the torment of war, and the wisdom of memory. Joy and tears, pleasure and pain: everything came to me while I read in my purple chair. I had never sat so still, and yet experienced so much.

— Nina Sankovitch, Tolstoy and the Purple Chair, p. 139

Faith and Vision

Many of us wish God were more visible. We think that if we could see him better or know what was going on, then faith would come more easily. But if Jesus dominated the space and overwhelmed our vision, we would not be able to relate to him. Everyone who had a clear-eyed vision of God in the Bible fell down as if he were dead. It’s hard to relate to pure light.

— Paul E. Miller, A Praying Life, p. 193

Revelation and Reframing

Without revelation and reframing, life can seem like an endless desert of danger with scratchy sand in your shoes, and yet if we remember or are reminded to pay attention, we find so many sources of hidden water, so many bits and chips and washes of color, in a weed or the gravel or a sunrise. There are so many ways to sweep the sand off our feet. So we say, “Oh my God. Thanks.”

— Anne Lamott, Help Thanks Wow: The Three Essential Prayers, p. 53

Expressing Ourselves

Love is not denying ourselves and doing for others; rather, it is honestly expressing whatever our feelings and needs are and empathically receiving the other person’s feelings and needs. To receive empathically does not mean that you must comply — just accurately receive what is expressed as a gift of life from the other person. Love is honestly expressing our own needs; that doesn’t mean making demands, but just, “Here I am. Here’s what I like.”

— Marshall Rosenberg, PhD, Living Nonviolent Communication, p. 29

Joyfully Accepting our Powerlessness

Accepting our powerlessness over the behavior of others isn’t easy. We think, If only I’d said it this way. Or perhaps, If only I had made that special dinner or bought flowers first. We get fooled into thinking that if we do something differently, we might get the object of our attention to do something differently, too. Alas, that’s never going to happen, unless by accident. People do what they do. Period. Our good fortune is to learn how empowered we feel when we let them!

Awaking each morning, being grateful to know that we can have the kind of day we want, is one of the gifts of embracing a spiritual program. Relieving ourselves of the burden of trying to make others conform to our wishes is a gift we can gladly unwrap a day at a time.

— Karen Casey, Let Go Now, p. 105