Have you read Anne Lamott’s recent book Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers? It’s a short but powerful book, and the title really tells you what it’s about. The “Help” and “Thanks” prayers are self-explanatory, but the “Wow” section took me a bit longer to digest. I wasn’t sure that the “Wow” prayer was completely in my “repertoire” of prayers.
Then, a friend gave me the incredibly wise and funny book, Carry On Warrior: Thoughts on Life Unarmed, by Glennon Doyle Melton. Melton, who also writes the wonderful blog Momastery, plays off Lamott’s book, but tells us that for her, the three essential prayers are Help, Thanks, and WTF (What the Fuck?). Ah. Now THAT I totally get.
Now I can’t admit to saying WTF to God (until now), but I will say that one of my essential “prayers” to God is “Really???!!!!” said completely sarcastically. When crappy stuff happens in the world, I will look up to the heavens and say, “Really??!!! This seems like a good plan. You’re going with this. You’re God, for heaven’s sake. You don’t want to maybe tweak this and try again??!!” Only when I read Melton’s book did it occur to me that my “fussing” might be considered a prayer. I guess when I think of the Psalms, it could be.
I hope it’s a prayer because for the last couple of days I have been saying “Really??” to God. You see, one of my “people” (that’s a Southern term traditionally used for family but I broaden it to include those I love) is suffering through a pretty crappy time. You know what I mean, one of those times when it seems like it’s just one bad event after another. I am not talking about inconveniences. I am speaking of illness, deaths, estrangements, legal battles. I won’t go into any more detail because I have a feeling that most of us have felt like we have had more than our fair share of crap dumped on us at any one time.
When I was a kid we spent our summer vacations at Folly Beach, off the South Carolina coast. We kids spent hours in the ocean, often unsupervised (times were different then!). My dad had taught me how to dive under the big waves, but every once in a while, one would catch me by surprise. That’s when I felt the power of the ocean. The wave would pull me under, and I would be upside down, disoriented, panicked. And then it would finally release me, and I could pop up and catch my breath. I remember the largest waves would physically slam me so hard upon the bottom that I would come up with scraped and bloody elbows and knees.
Not long ago, I went through one of those times when one bad thing after another happened. Illnesses, death. During that time I felt like I was in the ocean at Folly, waves breaking all around me. I was standing up, in control, strong against the smaller waves. A few would gently break at my knees; one or two might be pretty strong, break against my waist, and push me around, but I could keep my feet. I was still upright. But then– often when I least expected it–one big sucker would get me, catching me by surprise, and it would knock me off my feet, pull me completely under, and for a few seconds, I would be completely lost. Out of control. Panicked. Body slammed by an invisible force against the hard packed sand of the ocean’s floor. All I can say is that somehow (with God’s help?), I would manage to get back up on my feet, catch my breath, bandage my knees, look around, and say WTF??
My “person” has just been body slammed by the ocean. I am not sure she’s been able to pick herself up yet or catch her breath. I feel powerless. I am not able to lend her a hand and help her up. We are separated by distance, for one thing. And I have no words of wisdom. I offer my love, my prayers. That’s all I got. It feels way too little.
And tonight, I am praying, “Really??!! What the fuck?”