All Is Grace: A Ragamuffin Memoir

by Brennan Manning

In Brennan’s story, and in mine, the good news is the entire story, which blessedly leaves us with nothing to prove or protect.

As Joan Didion once wrote, I want this memoir to put “a narrative line upon disparate images.”

All that is not the love of God has no meaning for me. I can truthfully say that I have no interest in anything but the love of God which is in Christ Jesus. If God wants it to, my life will be useful through my word and witness. If He wants it to, my life will bear fruit through my prayers and sacrifices. But the usefulness of my life is His concern, not mine. It would be indecent of me to worry about that.

To live in this world you must be able to do three things: To love what is mortal; To hold it against your bones knowing your life depends on it; And, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.1 Mary Oliver, “In Blackwater Woods”

But there are rare misty-eyed men who in the largesse of God’s grace happen to befriend us and reveal to us a different way of living, one fiercely tender and loyal. Such a man is Paul Sheldon, and on that day his tears stanched a wound that I could have let fester for years.

But I’d told myself—I had to—that grace cannot be weakened by anything a human being does or disbelieves. It runs on, a pure thing, in spite of, as well as because of, us.

Today I recognize that if we are fortunate enough, there comes a time when we encounter someone who will leave an indelible mark on our life. Someone whose character embodies the fruits of a deep spiritual walk and whose intimacy with Jesus is so infectious that we long to emulate it.

Your friendship has been like the refreshing shade of a vast tree in the noonday heat. You’ve provided my soul with a safe harbor, a sanctuary of protection. You’ve been a dispenser of hope, a ward against depression, and the cause of countless belly laughs. Most of all you’ve never wanted anything from me except that I am myself.