“I do not understand the mystery of grace — only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.” – Anne Lamott

I was seething with anger over the clergy’s sexual abuse, how it has reached this point with many keeping silent, why this church still lords it over us, retaining its power…. Suddenly, this came to mind like a gentle rebuke: God meets us where we are.

He met me when I was a Catholic, kneeling before idols.

He met me when I was feeling smug with the Baptists, tipsy with the Pentecostals, neutral with Evangelicals and dismissive with the Adventists.

Even now He meets me in my cynicism.


One comment

  1. Your openness is what the church calls blasphemous, but as I grow old I come to realize that each religion has its own way of trying to explain divine mysteries but the ones who are tasked to strengthen the faith of their followers end up as devious opposites of the sacredness that they should assume. Better the bamboo shoot that is very ugly, the more you peel off each layer of sheath, the whiter and purer it looks. it’s actually what i had for breakfast.

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