Where are our roots? Over the past year, when asked to describe how I feel spiritually, emotionally, and relationally, my answer has often been, “I feel rooted.”
I have felt secure, loved, and able to live out of an attitude of love, deep conviction and vision, and compassion. I have felt so deeply rooted that i have experienced moments in which I have forgotten myself all together. These moments of glorious self-forgetfulness fueled by the experience of God’s glory (not self-hate or self-neglect) have allowed me to truly step into the fullness of God’s call on my life.
Being “rooted” is a brand new existence for me. A decade ago, my eating disorder was a way for me to “flit” to and fro, lighting only briefly, with a goal to take up as little space as possible and not to disturb the world or “make waves” with my existence. God has turned my whole reason for living around, and having experienced God in His glory and grace, seeing Him “rightly”, I can see myself “rightly” as His beloved.
As a result I can see others not as threats, competitors, or enemies, but as the beloved as well. When I am rooted, I can become a safe place for others.
I am posting this as a reminder for myself. This is a season of physical uprooting, a time where I don’t know where to land. It is a time of loss of community, and a time of grief, of limbo: Over the past month, I have been tempted to believe that I’ve been uprooted.
But that would be a lie.
I’m still deeply rooted in my Source: the One who chose me, named me, saved me, restored me, and brought me home still has a place for me. I’m seated in heavenly places—right now! I can’t wrap my brain around that fact, but my heart knows it to be true. I’m rooted in the good soil of Christ; I’m sustained by the all-sufficient power of the Spirit; and I’m called and chosen by my beloved Abba-Father.
In my grief, I remain rooted.