Growing roots

This past Saturday, I went to brunch with my best friend, we did a little bit of shopping, then I went to the grocery store. It wasn’t anything out of my normal weekend routine, nor was it any special occasion. And that’s where it hit me.

There is such beauty in the simplicity of having a rhythm to your life.

My best friend & I have been friends since we were 19 yrs old. We have walked with each other through many life moments that most people our age have yet to experience. From our college party days, to losing both of our mothers & her father, to marrying her off to the most incredible man. We have been through a lot of major life changing seasons together. But I don’t feel like that’s what grounds us so securely in our friendship. I believe its the comfort, predictability and rhythm that we have established over the past 14 years. There’s something magical about having somebody in your life who knows exactly where your emotions are at when you are simply running through your list of playing catch up. She tends to know where my heart is before my head even has time to catch up with it.

While grocery shopping, my usual butcher noticed my voice was not normal. He showed so much concern and recommended a natural remedy for me to help it to ensure a speedy recovery. He knows about my nut allergy and always double checks everything to make sure that it’s safe for me. He shows deep concern because his son shares the same allergy and he knows the importance of keeping me safe. The guy that always puts out the produce asked me where I have been lately. I explained that work has been crazy & I have been sick for the last couple of weeks so I haven’t made time for grocery shopping.

While these may not seem like extraordinary occurrences to most, they made me stop to have a moment of gratitude. I have people in my life who notice when things are off in my world. They are such vast differences on their investment in my life, but the end result and comfort is still there.

My mom grew up in an incredibly abusive & alcoholic home. They frequently had to move without any notice to flee from whatever man had invaded their families life in that season. As a result, my mom had the instinct to flee whenever anything went wrong instilled in her from day 1 of her life.

People frequently ask me why we moved so much growing up. Their first question is if my dad was in the military. I usually brush it off & change the subject. But the reality is, any time anything went wrong in our lives, my mom would make us pick up & move. My dad finally put his foot down when I was getting ready to enter high school & my mom took off & left us as a result. While I appreciated his sacrifice somewhat at the time, I never really valued it that much until recently.

It was important to him for me to have roots & for my feet to stay planted.

When I look back over my journey, it’s interesting to look at the people that have come, some have stayed, and many have gone. But one thing I notice is that God always slides in the most perfect person to walk through my next season with me. And most of the time, I don’t understand the value until we are knee deep in the next lesson of the next season.

The most common thread & lesson that weaves its way through all of my journey is this:
There is such comfort and beauty in allowing your roots to grow deep. To give the people around you a chance to invest in you, no matter the depth or length their role in your journey may be. To be still and let God handle whatever is meant to come your way or what seasons change.

My job is to plant my feet firmly where God has asked me to be. To hold loosely to the things of this world. And to trust that he is orchestrating the most beautiful rhythm in my life.

I do not have to run. I do not have to control everything. I simply have to have my faith firmly planted in the knowledge that He will always fight for me and show me more grace than I ever could imagine.

And I am so thankful to be in a place in my life where my roots have grown strong.

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