Where I'm From...

I am from sitting by the weathered, brown, baby grand piano coloring and sitting in the sound of my mom practicing worship at the piano’s keys. I am from admiring my Mama’s glass Little Women dolls, one for each of us daughters.

    I am from Barbie dolls, littlest pet shops and polly pockets. I am from American doll tea parties and sleepovers with neighbors.

 I’m from childhood schemes with our neighborhood besties…of lemonade sales, practicing for homemade Fourth of July shows, dressing up as boys and pretending to be spies, and running around washing our neighbors cars for a few bucks. I’m from secret meetings in the neighbors play structure, playing survival in the front yard, sneaking through the fence connecting our backyard with our neighbors, and eating meals as two families together. I’m from warm, safe, and loud. 

I am from oak trees we pretended were horses. Oak trees which lent their limbs to a beautiful swing my dad made, which we spent hours swinging on. I am from a magical willow tree whose arms reached out to hold my hand and imagination. From wrapping our arms in its branches and singing our made up song to arrive at the fantastical land we spent years playing pretend in. I am from play and pretend. 

I am from living room dance parties. And kitchen dance parties. And bedroom dance parties. From vlogging spicy dance tutorials with my sister in the kitchen when we were supposed to be washing dishes. From choreographing dances to Toby Mac in our backyard or jamming out to Hannah Montana in our bedroom. I am from Disney channel. And K-Love in the car. I am from Kidz Bop CD’s and my own mp3 player with my Dad and I’s song. I am from jazz and midnight karaoke. 

I am from bunk beds. I am from cuddles with my sister. I am from sharing a bed with her for seven years. From dramatic reunions when I came home from camp, swinging her in big hugs, because we hadn’t been together in a week. 

I am from Mimi’s homemade grape jam and my dad’s Papa bread. I am from Shrimp Etouffee and homemade hash brown casserole. I am from catechism questions at the dinner table and singing our prayers before dinner.

I am from a mom with Crohn's disease. I am from a dad who was Vegan, then Vegetarian then Pescatarian. I am from loving food but being picky about meat. From Pescatarian to lover of steak. From doesn’t eat the milk at hot lunch to no gluten or dairy. From a few allergies to a growing list of digestive issues.

But I am also from sharing allergy friendly snacks with Becky, my beloved youth leader. From filling a whole suitcase with our special mayonnaise, bars and crackers so we could eat on a missions trip to Belize.

I am from a small “Girls Nite” youth group. From only me and the pastors kid to a new leader and six girls in a warm and safe living room full of games and life lessons. Vulnerability, prayer, and gooey brownie mix shared across the table. I am from backpacking trips that challenged me and tears spilt over change, identity and friendships. But I am from finding refuge in those blessed Friday nights at youth group.

I am from changes in leadership and structure. I am from a church family. A family of aunts and uncles, grandparents and role models in the church who come alongside me as family and have loved me as I’ve grown up. I come from being the first and the last to leave church. From a father who is an elder and a mom who leads worship.

I am from theology conversations with my dad. From watching Pitch Perfect with my friends and then having a world view discussion about it with my him in the kitchen. And I am from dancing around our living room together or snuggling up to read The Princess and the Goblin with him on the couch.

I am from journals and journals and journals and more journals. From colored pens and planners and notetaking with Becky, my mentor, leader, and friend at church. 

I am from finding refuge in Becky's home, when my mom was out of town and my fifteen year old heart had been broken by rejection from the singing group I always wanted to be in. Feeling hurt and wanting more than anything not to go home yet, finding comfort in her big brown couch, and the safe smell of her home.

I am from Redding. From the Sundial Bridge, Mt. Shasta, beautiful mountain landscapes with the most gorgeous sunsets. I am from encountering Bethel attendees in coffee shops and everyone wearing the same Costco swimsuit. From hot, dry summer heat, droughts and horrible fire seasons. 

I am from the Carr fire and fear. From spider induced panic attacks. From overcoming heights. From Belize missions trips. From melting popsicles in the hot summer sun while neighbors ride their bikes. From game nights and family found in strange places. 

From dance recitals and musical theatre. From an arts charter school with Monday morning assemblies full of silly songs to a public high school that challenged me in new ways. A public high school with teachers in whose classrooms I found safety and encouragement. Who taught me to love learning and to stand up to those who filled the air of our bathrooms with vape and pot. I am from friendship struggles and insecurity. But I am also from the freedom of Jesus. 

From Uncle Bobby and his insane and amazing love for the Lord. He has seizures and yet he never forgets the name of Jesus. I’m from adopting him into our family. Spending Christmases and movie nights with him on the good days. From an abundance of prayer and encouragement from him. From his stories that shape me. 

I am from stories and music and laughter. From childhood toys, imagination and play. From dancing constantly even when we aren’t any good and enjoying the amazing cooking of my mother. I’m from the people who have supported me and the people who hurt me. But mostly from the incredible community of church family which God blessed me to be raised in. I’m from Jesus and His breath of life.