Where I'm From ...

Inspired here. Just what this little brain needed to get going again ...

I am from crosses over doorways, from spider plants dangling long over copper pots and aloe in the kitchen sill. I am from the beige Berber carpet under shelves lined with books and markers of where we have been. I am from Pearl Buck and Frances Hodgons Burnett, the wishing for my own secret garden with strong, long limb for reading ... my own key to hide away.

I am from John Denver's Christmas, from pickling spices simmering on stove top, a Jesse Tree. I am from marigolds in wagons and geraniums in window boxes, silver tubs of soil. I am from a magnolia by the front door with lingering perfume and leaves waxy green. I am from Los Angeles brown, from backyard pools, stray cats, post card collections, and pink checkered Vans.

I am from lasagna for dinner guests, coffee strong and black for dessert. From stories around a dining room table, folk songs and a guitar, communion in my living room. I am from Winland Strasse and Nevada Avenue, from alpine skiing and Malibu swimming. I am from orange-tent camping with a red-checkered table cloth.

I am from my mama and her mama on Davis Drive. From Puddy, Toshi, Ginny, Janny and Suzy. 

I am from "Go Army, Beat Navy" and "Be not afraid, I go before you always." From "On my honor, I will try..." and "Can you feel the love coming out of me and sticking on you?"

I am from walks through woods over the Hudson River, fall leaves in pockets and pressed between pages. From West Point cadets and Cream of Wheat, pickled eggs and pussy willows at Easter, kilbasa. I am from Nurnberg, Germany and bratwurst with mustard.

I am from liturgical living and the kneeling, hands clasped right next to my mama. I am from 'One Bread One Body,' from watching the multitudes walk forward with palms turned upward and me -- falling in love with humanity, one 'Amen' at a time.

I am from a family of prodigal sons and daughters: on LA streets and in night clubs, behind fun house mirrors and down sordid side roads, up fraternity house steps. From hunched-over shoulders, all wayward and slopping with the pigs; all home now and kneeling at Father's feet,
dining at His table.

I am from running too far and falling into shadows, paper-thin. I am from choosing, this day, Whom I will serve ... and feasting in new robes.

I am from Big Grace and no room for drama and parents who made the 'big gesture' every time. I am from redemption that is real and multiplying. I am from heart friends who love like family. From a Colonel-father turned humble, with eyes welling up when he speaks of Forgiveness.  From a mother who taught "faith is a gift" and whispered prayers for children over a lifetime. From a helpmate who models love: steady, kind, extravagant.

I am from palm branches creased into crosses and a home that learned to make way for the One who makes rough places smooth. I am from an assurance that if God is for us then who...?
I am from Water who quenches, from Bread who fills, from the Word who dwells right here.

I am from all that was. I am from the promise of One Who Is. I am from the hope of what will be.










Working hard to define this space, all these rambling words here. And I am just not good with a plan! Thanks for kindness. Thanks for coming back. Keep checking in? I've got some ideas and, well, I am finiding my way ...

Peace, as always, to you. My friends.