Musings: Notes From My Daybook

Of all my favorite morning places, I think the St. Louis Bread Company is the best. Of course, this venerable institution has morphed into the corporate chain that most of us know as Panera Bread Company. But my memory goes back 20 years or more when you had to go to Grand Ave or over in the Central West End to find the hole-in-the-wall bakery and coffee place.

So this morning, looking out at the rain-drenched sidewalk that lines Grand Ave I having Hazelnut and a bear claw--can't beat it!

Coming into St. Louis for a conference has double import for me. My brother resides in old south St. Louis. So getting into town before dinner time last was a high priority. Robert's knowledge of the city and the best out of the way places to eat always hits a perfect note. Last night it was Barley's--a little restaurant on a narrow street in South St. Louis that reflected the German heritage of the area. It was terrific.

But enough on food. It was great to see my brother and catch up on each other's lives. We don't see each other enough. I got to see his photos of an Alaskan cruise he took earlier this month. We talked about our parents and our family and our growing up. It's always interesting and helpful to venture into the past with a sibling--provided you can trust each other with what you have discovered in your own living.

The older I get the more I long for some sense of rootedness, to connect with the past, my past. To know where I came from and why I am the way I am. That longing extends not only into my immediate family--siblings, parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents--but in a larger sense to the people of God. My reading of "old, dead people" is no longer a practice born out of graduate studies, but out of the ongoing search for my place and my voice in the context of God's larger tapestry.

Of course, such pursuits must be initiated from the viewpoint of faith. At least, for me, faith is the beginning place. Where you begin will make a difference where you end up. And by faith, I am not thinking about some glib notion about God being always there to pick us up. Rather, I mean the idea that we must always keep in front of us the reality of God's engagement with the world and with each one of us. If anyone ever had reason to walk away from the table it was Job. But even Job never stopped to seek knowing and understanding apart from the construct of God's engagement. Faith is the vital key in our pursuit of understanding our place, and discovering our voice.