This Place For Today

Packing is arduous business.generation pushed a little further West, following a
Finding myself relocating to a new city meanshope for more than what they had or could envision
participating in the age-old, time-honored practice offor themselves where they were. What few pictures
pulling up stakes, shutting off utilities and lookingI have of these people I never met reveal great
ahead to another part of my life as it unfolds. Thebeauty and joy so poignantly real I can feel them
packing is simply the physical rendition of sorting andwith me, directing me to take my part in the
filing memories, moments and hopes that evidenceadventure. The unknown didn't seem to phase them,
the truth of the time spent in any place we choosewhich is a gift, like their faith, that they have passed
to call home. Having done this a few times before, Idown to me. My people are people of faith, courage
am familiar with the process, its delights and itsand abundantly joyful creativity, an ancestry of which
pitfalls. Gathering one's life together, releasing itsI am proud to share, a legacy I hope to embody
unneeded portions to the universe, fitting thewith grace.
remainder into a box on wheels and trusting it will beThe heat of these last days spent in this place that
intact and ready to be welcomed into a new spacehas been my home for seven years also reminds me
at the other end of the road, is both an act of willthat I am not carrying out an Exodus journey of
and faith. This move calls forth a good measure ofBiblical proportions. There will be no hot desert winds
the former and a greater measure of the latter thanon my face or burning sand under my feet, no
any other move has required.blazing sun relentlessly beating down on my head
My mother's family started their journey in thiswith each passing minute, hour or day. There is an
country in upstate New York in the early nineteenthaddress to which I am headed, unlike the Israelites,
century. Eventually making their way through thewho would wander for forty years with only the
Midwest, my great grandparents met in Iowa in thehope of God's assurance that there would be a
latter part of that era and continued their travels topromised land.
Minnesota by way of South Dakota. My motherThere is progress in the journey. Years later Isaiah
remembers that they returned to Iowa each year towould go on to speak of a new Exodus for God's
help with the cattle drives, the women running thepeople, a journey to a new Eden-like place. "For you
chuck wagon to provide home cooked meals for theshall go out with joy, and be led forth in peace; the
cowboys. Their son carried on the tradition, movingmountains and the hills before you shall break forth
his wife, son and daughter through Wisconsin andinto singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap
North Dakota before settling in Chicago. When mytheir hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the
mother speaks of where she grew up, it is Chicagocypress; instead of the briar shall come up the
she remembers as home. While I know mymyrtle; and it shall be to the Lord for a memorial, for
grandfather moved his family to accommodate hisan everlasting sign which shall not be cut off (Isaiah
work, I am not sure why his parents kept to the55: 12-13)." Sometimes what we can't see
road for so long.immediately is as important as what is within each
But what their movement across the land tells me istask and step of the day. Within the tangible
that they were strong people with dreams, willing tomoments of living are housed the grace and mystery
withstand endless days walking next to coveredof God's purpose and promise. Herein lies our home,
wagons containing their whole lives to the frontierswherever we are.
of a place completely unknown to them. Each