Rooted: A Return from DC

January 2014

Over two months ago now, Dave and I returned to Kansas City. This return was filled with sadness in leaving those we loved and a dream we had dreamed behind in DC. It was ridiculously painful to say goodbye to the justice fighters I'd encountered working for affordable housing at Manna, Inc. This group of people my friend Sarah has cultivated, pastored and gathered were profoundly beautiful. 

The time we shared together was a gift. All of it, the tensions, the differences, the diversity and the struggle. I'll never forget Marilyn going out of her way to communicate and to take care of me. Sarah's unending and creative hospitality amazed me day after day. Robert, oh, Robert-his chattiness and over the top dramatics threaten to scare me away a couple of times, but as I persisted in love, I began to see the heart of a wonderful man. A man who truly loves. And then there's Justin, her struggle through identity and belonging this summer challenged me and called me to prayer in a way I have not yet prayed. I can't hardly believe her life was saved, but Gloria does because she knows how to pray. 

These people loved me and I loved them, a whole freakin' lot. Jim and his southern drawl and constant willingness to pick a fight; Director Kelly and his subversive love & dedication. Charlene, her art, her humor and her boredom with a job which had long since demanded her deepest passions. All of these people, oh and Charles, his peaceful spirit; Easten, an incredibly talented teacher and Emily, the person I've met whose laugh marks her personality more clearly than mine. 

These people, the place, the city of DC. Of course, I fell in love with it but it wasn't the right fit for me. It became apparent, the fast pace was causing me to drown, feel overwhelmed more often than peaceful and practically, my body clearly told me in no uncertain terms, this wasn't going to work. A limitation. The girl who started off her twenties by setting out to conquer anything that got in her path or threatened her sense of self. This lady: met a boundary, a limitation.....or was it a purification, a refining rather?

The Sandal-ly Sort 

We met in Olive Garden, he an wise and seasoned soul, full of love and generosity of spirit. He listened, he didn't bulk at my pain, he paid for our lunch and said gracious things. He helped us think about how to accomplish the next steps in our dreams, he even shared his! There he was, an agent of reconciliation, giving grace, sending us in peace. His wiry personality and fiery spirit met mine & his kindness surpassed mine.

Oh and another, he came in the form of a brother. With a constant open invitation to be, he welcomed me at each turn without pressure or frustration. He allowed me to share in his life a bit. His thoughts were profound, his posture admirable and his love, his deep love for others & for justice, truth and the good gifts of God..self-evident. A shared football game, a Sunday meal, a night on the town and Thai food to boot. He opened his heart, his schedule and his friendship to hug me me right where I was at. And of course, when things started to get tough, he kindly and graciously sent encouraging texts, reminding me that he saw me, he knew my heart and he would stay on my side. The best kind of brother anyone could ask for. Full of life, dedicated to many and one of the most humorist, entertaining zestful humans I've encountered.

These folks I'm describing, they're those who were sent to walk a bit with me, with flesh on, the ones I could touch to remind me She (often turned He) saw me. With Her nurturing care and careful provision, God entered in this past year to reveal what this journey is all about. An encounter in DC sealed the deal for me, I can no longer claim a religion about what is not. I can't identify with folks who spend a whole bunch of time worrying about who's in the right or the wrong. Heady, academic debate intrigues me very little these days. I'm drawn towards those entering in, entering in to the systems of injustice and advocating for change, entering in to work places often focused on the bottom line and teaching people about joy, entering in to city councils who pride themselves on the power they hold over people's fate and bringing about just decisions, the kind of decisions Jesus would have overturned tables for if he still were walking around with sandals these days.

Instead, those with sandals look like a homosexual man ostracized by society, living with aids spending his days helping others with housing or taking them pretty flowers. Those with sandals look like a woman with Stage 4 breast cancer who will not let this define her fate and would be rather living, loving and pouring out her compassion on Anyone she encounters. Those with sandals look like a long blonde-haired white woman who's working to give up her privilege and power with each step that she takes, who uses her talents to advocate for what's right. Those with sandals like to party and can always be called upon to know the latest fashion but if there's a cry for help, a friend in need they'll drop every-thing, literally and respond. Those with sandals have some money and those with sandals sometimes hardly have the cash to buy a soda but... they were walking around, with skin on in the midst of the most busy city I've ever lived in. 

As is par for the course, I thought I'd find the sandal-clad folk behind a church door or inside an established institution. Sometimes the sandal-ly folks appeared there but they seemed to oozing outside of the doors and meandering around all out in the open. I thought I'd find further training about how to wear my sandals on from the priestly sort, those with the collar. This was not the case. Instead it seemed the collar was almost choking a couple of good men and they seemed to have lost their sandals, how in the world could they help me find mine?

Back to KC 

Oh, so back to the point, the return to Kansas City. One of the most juxtaposed decisions, I've ever made. My partner would be content to stay, my family was closer (such a gift) and yet there was something drawing me home. Rooted. This is the word I kept hearing, "It's time. Diane, give up the adventure, the chase the going after fame and academic success, just let your roots dig in a bit." 

The Sage 

“You've already been rooted for quite some time,” she said and she was right. Somewhere along the Kansas City journey which for me started out much like the dissonance of DC, had become home.

Kansas City: My Love 

I've yet to meet Dorthy but she and I agree. There's no place like home. I came to this place with a very clear yearning and drawing, simply to obtain a degree. But instead, I started to grow, to heal, to explore, to find faith and to begin to trust the most beautiful human. My love, Dave. How he made his way into my life or heart, I'm still not sure but I'm grateful. Of course, part of me wants to keep this gracious, loving, kind soul to myself. There are days when I want to do nothing like keep setting him free to explore and love and meet others. Set him free to wear his sandals out around....(for he's the sandal-ly sort). But thankfully, I come back to my senses and realize, this freedom, this mutuality of boundary and letting go. This pattern of attached-detachment, lets us be. It brings joy and life and love.

And the pup... 

Take Zona for example, I've never been the dog sort but when I met the man (David J.) I quickly learned he was. He's the kind who's more fully human around animals. Maybe we were all meant to be. The author of, “The Life of Pi” seems to agree. And so I began to open up my heart and my nostrils-to dog smells. Having a pup adds another dimension to our life and it takes something away. We're not as free, a night's stay in a hotel would require a bit more planning. But I think the fluffy pup is sandal wearer, too. He loves, he jumps and plays, he reminds us to walk and he fills our hearts with joy.

Where this next stage of obedience, response to open our hearts to rooted-ness will go, I'm not totally sure. But I'm along for the ride, and I'm guessing I'm going to meet a whole bunch more folks with sandals outside of the institutional doors and hopefully, I'll learn where to find mine.