Where I’m From

I am from shoo-fly pie and fundamentalism.

From Harding’s Bakery and baseball (Bob G and Brock).

I am from the home of Pete and Flo (depression children living with depression), from safety, from open hearts but rules, rules, rules and fear of God (the bad kind).

I am from the most fertile non-irrigated farmland on earth and the hardwood forests of the piedmont.

I am from Saturday evening hamburgers, Sunday beef and beans the rest of the time and swirling cigarette smoke and coffee around the kitchen table.

From fights with Dar and Cheryl’s manias

I am from a proud WWII military identity and the disaster of the Viet Nam.

And rules-based Christian faith (but I already said that).

From “be sure your sins will find you out” and “be careful little eyes what you see…”

I’m from a George Wallace democrat and John Birch bigotry.

I’m from England, Austria, Wales, Germany and… here?

From chocolate cake with caramel icing and potato soup.

From an alcoholic grandfather and sexually abusive great uncle

From Wildwood by the sea and the endless fields stretching to the Pennsylvania turnpike.

I am from the Bible belt, Jerry Falwell, going to church every time the doors were open, from Mauritania, Jordan, France, the stinking poverty of Porte de Paix and Patna, Kiffa and Kathmandu, Mazar esh Sharif and Manila and so many other places that sear injustice into my heart.

I am from a vision for healing

And a hope in the great unwinding of the fall and the inexorable movement of history towards the kingdom of God

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