"That CHRIST may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye being ROOTED and GROUNDED in LOVE, may be able to comprehend with all saints what is breadth, and length, and depth, and height; And to know the LOVE of CHRIST, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fullness of GOD."
Rooted. Grounded. Love.
We hear of wings, freedom, and pursuing happines. Free spirit. Wanderer. Pilgrims and strangers.
What about roots? What about being grounded in Christ? Commitment. Faithfulness. What about studying His Word, listening for His Voice, and understanding His Ways?
There's something beautiful about loving our Saviour through the mundane. Quiet trust. Trust that He has you in the palm of His hand, you're not going to fall. Understanding. The path isn't easy, but in weakness, there is strength. Acceptance with where you are, eyes that can see the beauty of the journey. Love. Love for your Creator, for who He has made you to be. Peace. Courage. With Christ in your heart, truly, you are invincible. Roots.
I tend to see roots and grounded as Big Scary Words. What if I change? What if I shouldn't be rooted where I am? Grounded in who I am? What if God expects Impossible Things of me if I am rooted and grounded? My human mind has so far to go, I have so much breadth and depth to understand.
So I'm changing my prayers. I'm changing my anxious thoughts. I'm radically going against my human tendencies. I'm praying for roots, I'm praising Him for the daily grind, I'm going forth with absurd amounts of faith. Christ is in me. It's all I need.
I'm acknowledging the facts. I know nothing, I am nothing, and yes, all I am doing is in vain. I'm brave enough again to reach out once more to the One who has brought me here. He must smile. Brave? Hardly brave. Weak maybe. But in weakness, there is strength. I'm listening once more to His Voice, the one I was drowning out with fears and doubts. I like to think I'm gaining knowledge, sharing the Light. But some days I despair. I'm painfully human. Acutely simplistic. The breadth and depth and width overwhelm me. My roots grow slow.
Sometimes I look up, after I've fallen, again. I tell Him to go on. "You don't have to stick around for this," I say. I don't want the One who created me to see the mess I am. I want to excel. Shine the brightest. Be the most productive and knowledgable and kind of them all. But then I trip, again. I say a bad word, again. I blame it on someone else, again. I refuse to admit I'm wrong. I need help. I need all the wisdom I can get. But even as I lie there, tears running down my face, I beg Him to go on. Leave this wreckage behind. Find a more promising prospect. He won't leave. In fact, He even stoops down and helps me up. Silly old me. I just have to ask.
So I'm rooted. I'm grounded. I'm in it for the long haul. I have found that my Creator is impossibly kind. Endlessly wise. Eternally forgiving. And I refuse to let go of something that beautiful.