Faith, Grace, and "Why me, God?"

Here I go, blogging about something I almost never share--faith. I think I said recently that I would occasionally blog about politics because sometimes circumstances--like the current Congress coming out as if they'd been named king of all things--drive me to the point that I can't be quiet. You'll notice that so far I've shown great restraint--wait for it, it's coming.
But faith is pretty much a private matter. You have yours, I have mine, and we each respect the other. But tonight I read something by Anne Lamott that I am compelled to share. I recently commented to a friend that my faith had deepened in recent years. I'm not sure how. It's not exactly church-related, though I have been a churchgoer (often irregular) most of my life. But what I sense lately is a deepening sense of faith that doesn't depend on the ritual of the church, which I have always valued. Anne Lamott said it perfectly in an article in the new issue of the AARP Magazine: ..."by faith, I don't necessarily mean religious conviction. I'm talking partly about belief in the existence of a divine intelligence but also about faith in goodness, in things mostly working out. And let's not forget faith in ourselves--the conviction that we are loved and chosen--which is such a component of the spiritual life."
A lot of people in dire circumstances, wonder "Why me, God?" Classic story of Jonah and the whale. On the other hand, I often wonder, "Why me, God? Why am I so blessed when there is so much misery in life?" We were talking about this the other night, and another woman and I agreed we could have been born in Afghanistan or Boko Haram territory or any number of other places; we could have been born homeless or in abject poverty in the good old U.S. But we weren't. I believe to a large extent that we make our own fortune--not exactly the doctrine of good works, but more that what happens to us that is good is of our own making--through ambition, education, kindness, inquisitiveness (ah, the open mind). You get the idea. And yet going almost back to John Knox's Calvinism I have come to believe in Grace as a strong component of my faith. In, as Lamott says, the essential goodness of things. So when I say of someone suffering some horrible misfortune, "There, but for the Grace of God, go I," I really mean it. And I am grateful.
But with grace comes, to my mind, obligation, the obligation to help those less fortunate than we are. And that may indeed lead me back to a political rant. But not tonight.
If you've not read Lamott, I suggest you do. Her book that most impressed me was a wonderful one on writing and life, Bird by Bird. When she was young her brother postponed a big project on birds until the last minute. Then he sat at the kitchen table, overwhelmed by the scope of his project. His father advised, "Just take it bird by bird, son." That's a good way to take life. Lamott's latest title is Small Victories, which is on my "To Be Read" list. But there are others you might want to explore.

Blessings for a quiet time

When my neighbor, Susan, came in for happy hour tonight she said, "It's so quiet. Usually there's so much going on here." I told her Jacob would be here shortly and that would change...and sure enough it did. Sophie came in from the yard, Jordan and Jacob arrived, and suddenly everyone was talking at once, haggling over who was doing what for New Year's. Good gracious--we haven't even gotten through Christmas yet and they're planning New Year's. Of course, it all has to be planned around those football games, which neither Susan nor I care one whit about.
But basically, it was a quiet day, and I treasure those as we approach Christmas. So many people are rushed, harried and hurried in these last countdown days that I'm almost afraid to say I have it all done and I've been piddling. Emails, Facebook, updating my iPad's Kindle selections, culling through recipe magazines that piled up on my desk. I found so many recipes I want to try that we'll have to have a feast every weekend for weeks to come. But it's a pleasant feeling, and a part of me says that for those of us who celebrate Christmas this is the way it should be: quiet, contemplative, a time to ponder the wonder of the holiday and of God's great gift of love given to us. I'm enjoying it.
I did start the day off at an small but elegant breakfast party with a really innovative menu--a wonderful egg and Gruyere and prosciutto casserole, a distinctive broccoli and cauliflower salad with a hint of blue in the dressing, and some lightly pickled beets--I adore beets and made a pig of myself. My shoes weren't nearly the hit they were last night, but it was a different crowd, one where I knew some but not a lot of the guests. Still it added to my sense of peace and grace about the season.
Home for a nap, a quiet happy hour with Jay (until Susan finished vacuuming) and then Jordan and Jacob arrived. Jay and I have great political discussions--he a conservative and me a liberal but we both recognize logic so sometimes its sort of fun.
Now Jacob is on his iPad in the back room--he who won't sleep back there and insisted on light when he did is perfectly content to work on his iPad in the pitch dark. He's anxiously waiting for me to get off the computer. It's a bit disconcerting that he knows more than I do--yesterday morning he had to restore the sounds to my TV. Tonight he wants to play games so I asked the all-important question: are these games free? "juju, you pull them up on line. Of course they're free!"
Off to sit by the fire and read. I hope everyone also has a quiet and peaceful night.