... so, Friends - - where are you from?

I am from scattered worn-out paintbrushes collected in handmade pottery and antique Cramer's Dairy milk bottles and trails where old railroad tracks once laid that I walked upon on warm afternoons with my Pap.

I am from cluttered kitchen counters topped with deadlines, things to do, and things to cherish and owls and mason jars encased with rainbow hues of dripping paint.

I am from the two-story dwelling with a freshened-up face, hand-painted by myself and loved ones on ladders and twinkle lights that cast shadows on worn-out floors from little shoes and paws running about and from piles of artwork made from hands and minds that I love so dear.

From outdoorsmen who respect and love everything that God provides, like sunrises from a tree stand, the rushing sound of the creek and snow on the forest's floor.

From women who relish enjoyments over a good read, a good film and art that inspires and from gals that hold their family tightly and lift each other up and seek God's wisdom to soothe their souls.

I'm from long walks and riverside picnics and family card games at the dining room table and from Linnea Joy and David Allen and houses from here to there.

I'm from shoeboxes of photographs and thrift store jackpots and from hanging clothes out on the line and enjoying the peaceful calm of the Clarion.

I'm from "do unto others as you would have them do unto you" and "nothing worthwhile comes easy" and always - "Jesus loves me, this I know."

From Sunday suppers at Gram's and roasted carrot casserole and You are my Sunshine of two-part harmonies following family dinners, hoping to stay on pitch.

From finding my muse with memories I hold dear and hitting "save" on messages from my grandmas and smelling homemade apple crisp and missing the days of Wally's Pizza Shop.

I am from whimsy cotton aprons and worn tablecloth quilts and drives to the park with my camera in tow and a book club of chatty girls and moving stars and Wednesday night Jeep rides, chasing them from the sky.

I am from sinking my soul into the weight of Good Friday and the humbling beauty of Easter morn and from yearning - always yearning - to find the unique and simple blessing in each and every day.

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The inspiration to write this poem came from the lovely gal that I wrote about in yesterday's post, Ann Voskamp of A Holy Experience. She posted her own "I am From" poem and encouraged other's to do the same. So - I printed out the template that you can find HERE ... and went to work ...

So ... I ask - - where are you from? How has life shaped you? It can be renewing to hit "pause" and "rewind" sometimes. So often the picture becomes clearer and the blessings unveil themselves ...

Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.

- The Wonder Years