An appeal from the author Why you should become a Salon member. By Anne Lamott

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T A B L E++T A L K

Christmas and Chanukah: Who gets presents? How much do you spend? Discuss holiday giving in the Mothers area of Table Talk

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R E C E N T L Y

Imaginary friend
By Andrea Cooper
A mother confesses that she would find her 4-year-old's make-believe companion heartwarming if her own mother hadn't talked to imaginary people too
(12/09/98)

Making the list
By Polly Shulman
Your kids might not admit it, but there's a lot to be said for a present whose batteries don't run out and that you can take anywhere
(12/08/98)

Jews for Jesus
By Danny Miller
For my Holy Spirit-possessed sixth-grade teacher, it wasn't enough to sing the songs for our school's Christmas parade, we had to feel them
(12/07/98)

Second Thoughts: Twinns
By Sallie Tisdale
Double your pleasure, double your funn: Create a fantasy version of your child that will stay cute and small long after your kid leaves home and dumps you
(12/03/98)

Kids just want to have fun
By Anne Morrow Sampson
Why do the toys I bought my kids to improve their hand-eyecoordination and spatial dexterity just sit in the closet?
(12/02/98)

BROWSE THE WORD BY WORD ARCHIVES

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Mamafesto
By Camille Peri
Why it's time
for Mothers Who Think

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[_W O R D__B Y__W O R D_]

It's not that I don't have a lot of faith that God will heal us. It's just that I also have a lot of mental problems. And I want to fix them now.

BY ANNE LAMOTT | We are now in the third week of Advent, which is a big time of year formy Jesusy people. The new church year begins and a new note is struck: It isa time of preparation and waiting, because even though, as autumn grinds to adark and murky halt, everything is dying and falling asleep and falling off,something brand new is coming. Hope is coming. And so one of the messages ofAdvent is, don't weep over leaves.

The belief is that enough hope and tenderness will lead to world peace,one mind at a time. All nations will come together in kindness and justice,swords will be beaten into plowshares, spears into pruning hooks. This is alittle hard to buy with a world stage occupied by Saddam Hussein and KennethStarr. But setting aside one's tiny tendency toward cynicism, in themeantime -- in Advent -- we wait; and hope appears if we truly desire to see it. Maybe it's in tiny little packets here and there, hidden in the dying grasslike winter wildflowers, but we find it where we can, and exactly as it comesto us, while the days grow dark. We remind ourselves that you can only seethe stars when it is dark, and the darker it is, the brighter the lightbreaking through. Advent is about the coming of Emmanuel, which means "Godwith us," and so as the fields outside our windows go to sleep, we stay awakeand watch, holding to the belief that God is with us, is close and present, andthat we will be healed.

I want that belief, and that patience; I checked the box on the formchoosing that. But it has not been forthcoming. I have instead been feelinga little -- what is the psychiatric term? -- cuckoo. My mind has been doing aNative American worry chant, WORRYworryworryworryworryworryworryworryWORRYworryworry ... It's not that I don't have a lot of faith. It's just thatI also have a lot of mental problems. And I want to fix them all, and I wantto do that now, or at least by tomorrow afternoon, right after lunch.

I thought about calling our pastor and trying to get her to try to fix me,but she had left town for a little R&R. This is just intolerable. I have toldher more than once that we wouldn't have hired her if we'd known that she wasa minister with boundaries. So I started calling all the other religiouspeople I know, but discovered that, even though God may be ever present andclose by, none of His or Her spokespeople were in very good moods.

The first Protestant pastor I reached seemed bitter. "Can we talk aboutGod?" I asked.

"Who's that?" he said.

So I called a Jewish friend, who usually makes me laugh, but I couldtell right away she was in a terrible mood. Her children were keening in thebackground.

"You should smack those children," I said warmly.

"Tell me about it."

"I was wondering if you could tell me if there's a Jewish equivalent ofAdvent; what spiritual preparation is called for in the weeks before you lightthe first Chanukah candle."

There was a long silence. "This is a joke, right?" she asked.

"No, no, talk to me. So, well, you're Reform, right?"

"Of course we're Reform. We've got a crucifix on our front door. Look,"she said, "call me tomorrow. My child just drew with Magic Markers on the TVscreen. Tomorrow we'll have an invigorating talk about the menorah, aboutJudas Macabee casting the Syrian thugs out of the Holy Land. And I don't meanMiami Beach."

I called another minister. "My mind is on the fritz," I said."I want God to reach down with His or Her magic wand and restore me to myformer luster."

"Good luck, Bubbie. Here's the only thing I'm sure of: Go take care ofGod's children today, and God will take care of you."

"Does it say that somewhere?"

"Yes, it's right here, under 'Secret of Life' in my Owner's Manual."

"I never got an Owner's Manual."

"Fundamentalists would say you did: It's the Bible."

"Pretty darn great to be so sure of things, huh?"

"I heard a joke once, maybe it will cheer you up: A godly woman dies and goes to her reward, and is being shown around heaven by St. Peter. They walk through meadows and fields filled with people of all ages and colors, warmed by a gentle sun, lulled by the strains of soft sweet music -- black and white and Asian and Indian people, Hindus,Jews, Muslims, all of a family, laughing, resting by ponds, playing,listening, being. And then they come to a great walled portion of heaven,miles of land surrounded by tall thick walls.

"'What's this?' the woman asks.

"'Oh, that's where the fundamentalists stay,' said Peter. 'It's only nicefor them when they think they're the only ones here.'"

I laughed. "I'm going to go eat a thousand candy bars now."

"Atta girl. Sorry I can't help. Why don't you try a Catholic?"

N E X T_ P A G E: When the man in front of you soils himself

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