Plan B

I'm reading Anne Lamott's book "Plan B; Further Thoughts on Faith." Great book. Her first book on faith is called "Traveling Mercies."

In one chapter Lamott talks about forgiveness. She speaks about the struggles she had with her Mother and how after her death Anne was left to figure out how to forgive her mother. So, Anne left her mother in the closet for two years, in her words to "let her stew in her own ashes." She goes on to say,

"I refused to be nice to her, and didn't forgive her for being a terrified, furious, clinging, sucking maw of need and arrogance. I suppose that sounds harsh. I assumed Jesus wanted me to forgive her, but I also know He loves honesty and trasnparency. I don't think he was rolling his eyes impatiently at me while she was in the closet. I don't think much surprises Him: this is how we make important changes--barely, poorly, slowly. And still, He raises His fist in triumph." (my emphasis)

In another chapter Lamott talks about holiness:

"Holiness has most often been revealed to me in the exquisite pun of the first syllable, in holes--in not enough help, in brokenness, mess. High holy places, with ethereal sounds of stained glass, can massage my illusion of holiness, but in holes and lostness I can pick up the light of small ordinary progress, newly made moments flecked like pepper into the slog and the disruptions."

In yet another chapter Lamott tells a lovely Hasidic story of a rabbi who always told his people that if they studied the Torah, it would put Scripture on their hearts. One of them asked, 'Why on our hearts, and not in them?' The rabbi answered, "Only God can put Scripture inside. But reading sacred text can put it on your heart, and then when your heart breaks, the holy words will fall inside.'"