Help them, help them, help them

This weekend has been pretty horrible for many of our nearest and dearest. Our Skype line has been ringing, and our phones need charging. Things are rough. From my dear-hearts in Tunis to friends-that-are-family in the states, there are a lot of folks dealing with some of the worst that life has to throw at them. 

And then there's Gus. Gus, the great refiner, has a way of boiling life down to what is truly sacred. He's taken to spontaneous prayer these days, and while I'd like to say he learned it by example, I honestly think the kid just has it in him. He stops throughout the day and says, "I need to pray." The prayer is pretty simple: he's thankful for his friends, his relatives, and his household. They are hollered out in a list of names that end with an emphatic, "Amen!" This weekend, as I did my best to holler up my own lists of friends, it struck me how sincere that dude is. He really does love those folks that give him pause. He's truly thankful. He's in the midst of playing and he thinks on them and unabashedly shouts out his affection. I could learn a little bit from his joyful thanks and his frequent remembering.

So here's a shout out beloved Tunisian friends and dear Birch Bayers. I love you big, I'm thankful for you, I'm pleading for hope and happy answers to fill your days, and I'm offering up a "help them help them help them" in true Anne LaMott style on your behalfs whenever you cross my mind. And you cross my mind an awful lot. 

The spiritual leader not only supports prayer, but he also supports public fountain crashing.