“What happened to your plants?”, Doug asked this morning. 

Well, I was cleaning off my desk and I repotted the plants.

There aren’t any plants on my desk. And I didn’t actually clean anything off of it. I had one of “those” Saturdays last week. Doug was on call and Coleman scored a homework bye week. My to do list was actually short enough to fit on a refrigerator magnet notepad. (It usually rivals the length of a Charmin triple roll.) I was looking at one of the rare opportunities to make quick work of my tasks and enjoy a truly relaxing Saturday. 

So I decided to start with straightening up my desk. I grabbed the mail from the kitchen counter, carried it to my desk, set it down and glanced across the room where a very mismanaged houseplant made eye contact and locked in. I fell under its spell… I lightly and slowly walked over, reached up to pick out some dead leaves and… for the life of me I don’t know how I ended up spending four hours on the front porch with a couple pots of old dead plant soil and mangled messes of dry leaves. 

I have a green thumb. I know this because I have houseplants older than my house and they have never tasted the foliage feast of fertilizer. Don’t ask me what kind of plants they are because, with the exception of aloe vera, I don’t have the slightest idea. I just water them, and… well that’s it. I water them. Every year or so, there is an unplanned uproot that comes from a side eye glance at a cluster of dead leaves. I pull the plants out of their pots, shake off the reusable dirt, comb through the roots, and choose a few decent remains to put back into the dead dirt. And that’s what happened to my plants last Saturday.

The survivors of the uproot are the plants whose roots are tightly tangled together. The dirt is bound into the shape of the pot. The plant and roots and soil come out as one solid form. 

Most of the plants are now standing tall and robust in a pot of soil that is spread evenly. Their long healthy roots will soon take the form of the pot and remain well grounded. And because they are well grounded, they will survive more uproots. 

There are two types of plants that will fight to survive the uproot. The delicate little starters with shallow roots that can be pulled effortlessly out of the soil, and the overgrown stalks that break off. I simply can’t give up on them though. My green thumb must be defended.

I put the weak ones in a tub of soil and balance and pack them, and leave their roots reaching aimlessly to take hold. I stuff the stalks in a jar of water and watch for days to see any sign of new roots. Sometimes it happens and I can delightfully transfer them to a pot of soil and enjoy a bonus that grew from brokenness. 

Have you ever been uprooted? Yanked from your comfort zone and shaken until you are separated from all that has entangled and kept you in its form?

I have. And I have experienced every outcome from it. I have been poked back into the soil and had to desperately dig deep to find my rooting. I have been broken, so broken, and shoved into a new world where I felt like I was drowning. I had to stop fighting for air and let the healing water seep new life into me. And I grew new roots. I have, not often enough, been grounded with deep, molded roots. I shook off my weakness and brokenness and just kept growing in a clean, healthy environment. I like it best when I’m grounded. 

I’m thankful for the uproot and the new life and healing and growth it eventually brings. I’m thankful for its reminder to stay grounded, deeply rooted in the Word of God.  It is in His Word that I find the tightly packed soil and healing water that is always within reach of my shallow roots. 

My gift to you is healing water for your brokenness. My gift to you is a foundation of firm, clean, nurturing soil. My gift to you is a place where you can be rooted, God’s Word.

“Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.” Colossians 2:6,7 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s