the recreation of retelling

A few years ago now,
one morning,
frustrated with the girls’ utter lack of response
to repeated questions about what they might want for lunch,
I made them sock sandwiches
(clean socks, no condiments
on whole wheat bread)—
tucked them in their sandwich wraps,
put them in their lunch bags.
Evidently created quite a stir in the cafeteria.

This morning, the younger,
telling me what she wanted for breakfast,
said, “I’ll have whatever you want to fix me.
Not eggs though,
because we’re having a frittata tonight….
And nothing to do with socks!”

Stories once told,
continue unfolding.

So within the stories we live,
we choose, as best we can,
whatever is true,
whatever is honorable,
whatever is just, whatever is pure,
whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable,
anything excellent—worthy of praise
(Philippians 4:8)—the fun, the amusing,
the rich, the deep,
the beautiful, the graceful,
the faithful, the hopeful,
the loveful—

ever mindful
of the extended unfolding—
the ongoing recreation.

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