'I started to feel like a tired, wired little kid at a birthday party who has had way too much sugar, who is in all ways on overload, but still finds herself blindfolded and spun around for a game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, and then pushed more or less in the direction of the wall with the donkey on it. But I was so turned around, so lost and overwhelmed and stressed that I couldn't even remember where the wall with the donkey was - or even in what direction it might be found. So I couldn't take one step forward without there being a chance that I was actually walking further away from it. And it took me a while to remember that for me, the wall with the donkey on it is Jesus.'
Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies, p.149.
