Cowboy Carl

One of my favorite authors is Anne Lamott. Her wit, wisdom, and love for God make her stories so funny, impactful, and inspiring. In her latest book, Somehow; Thoughts on Love, she focuses on the power of love and the many varied and precious ways we experience love in our lives.

Chapter seven is all about the love that is to be found in community and the danger to be found in isolation. As she puts it, “Nobody in isolation becomes who they were designed to be.”

She goes on to describe the benefits and the necessity of community:

In community, lines of difference blur. We get hydrated, and we get our senses of humor back, the great miracle; we get set back on our feet when we fall or get knocked down, and we’re filled up by helping other people get back on their feet.

A friendly community holds up a more accurate mirror, revealing that there are others in the frame. No matter how hard I try, I cannot sing harmony by myself.

Anne Lamott is a self-proclaimed introvert but she knows first-hand the importance of putting yourself out there. That process of putting yourself out there begins with asking God to find you that community that offers you the “sacrament of welcome,” as she puts it.

We can come up with all kinds of excuses not to put ourselves out there. Lamott brings these excuses to light:

Becoming part of a community can be scary initially, even if you have been feeling lonely and untethered. We worry we will get lost or used or taken advantage of or mocked, or we’ll disappear, or we’ll get equalized, so that a lifetime of high achievement, of being a very special person in the world, will have been for naught.

The hard part is coming a second time. Maybe you’re not convinced these people are worthy of you or think that they would never accept you. But almost always people will say, “We’re glad to see you. Please come back.” And you’ll think, well, they’re just nuts. But they will say, “We’re glad to see you.” You think that, sadly, you don’t have time for this because you are a busy and important person.

She also describes, with such wit and warmth, the life-giving perk of membership in a loving community:

But the love of that group is that they see me, the false parts of myself that I’m propping up, and they say, “Okay, you need to do that.” It’s like seeing a kid who needs to dress in a cowboy outfit for dinner every night: Okay, that’s what you need to do. You’re not really a cowboy, but if you want to dress up like that for dinner, that’s fine with us. And you want us to call you Carl. We’re glad to. But we love you so much anyway and you’re dressing up is not the thing we love about you.

To feel seen and known that way is holy.

Saddle up and come on over to Firstfruits, we’ll be glad to see you!

Joan