I first heard of Anne Lamott when the mother of one of my college roommates, Julie, gave me “Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son’s First Year” after Noa was born. She told me to read it during those 2am feedings when you need to laugh. Being a new mom, I wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that; but, boy, does that one become clear very, very quickly.
Since then, I have read most of Lamott’s books (I return to “Bird by Bird” when I toy with the idea of just biting the bullet and becoming a real writer) and this latest book is just new to the shelves. In “Operating Instructions,” Lamott detailed her pregnancy with Sam – she is unmarried, not together with the father, over 40 and just getting herself together, and now she is responsible for another person. Gulp. Now, in “Some Assembly Required,” her not-yet-20-year-old son is expecting a child with his “is she is or isn’t she?” girlfriend. Lamott details the pregnancy through the first year and tells of falling in love with her grandson Jax, watching her son in his new role as dad and supporting her grandson’s mother.
I do not agree with Lamott on everything (politics, some theology, etc.), but that is not why I read her and it doesn’t prevent me from reading her. She was truly the first Christian I read who admitted to being broken. She flat out said that she was a mess and only the grace of God made her worthy. And that she was going to continue being a mess because, well, she is also a sinner. It was a revelation to me. Before then, most Christians I knew and Christian authors I read spent a lot of energy “having it altogether.” Reading Lamott, you get the feeling that she would find that just exhausting and more work than actually just being yourself. And it is more work – it is taking a giant spoonful of pride every morning when you are already full. As Lamott says: “Life is an obstacle course, and when you’re adding you own impediments (thinking they are helping), you really crazy it up. You make it harder to even just cross the room. You should not bring more items and hurdles to the obstacle course” (p161). That is why I appreciate Lamott. She knows her “signature sins” (as writer and teacher – and my neighbor – Michael Mangis calls them) and knows she could struggle with them for a long time. She owns them, hates them and realizes it is not within her power to conquer them – it is dependent on a grace-infused life.
Lamott’s son Sam has inherited his mother’s ease of words – his descriptions of his son, how he is coping with the near-breakdown moments with a new baby added to an already full life, and his own struggles mirror his mom’s honesty and turn of phrase. When talking about his son, he says: “I feel desperate of him – maybe that’s not correct grammatically, but I feel desperate of him” (p71). Not sure how much we will see of Sam Lamott in writing in years to come, but he has a gift and if he can do for young men what his mom did for young women, Christians will rejoice and be glad to see they have a wounded, broken brother in Christ whom they can relate and admire.
I encourage you to find Anne Lamott’s books and especially this new one as it feels like the continuation of a journey she has invited us on with her.