Five Minute Friday #29 – ROOTS

I link up with Lisa-Jo on Fridays for a writing flash mob…throwing caution to the wind and gathering to share what a few minutes of free writing can buy.

Today’s topic: ROOTS

THE STUMP DIGGERS, BOLIVIA 2011

GO.

It was a small an unassuming tree, six..maybe eight inches around at the most, and not much taller than we were. And it was in the way of the wall we were trying to build at the girls’ home in Bolivia. Once the little tree was chopped down, a few of us were tasked with digging and uprooting the stump.

We laughed and joked as we got to work, expecting this to be as easy as all the others. But after an hour of digging we realized the stump and roots were bigger than we expected. So we extended the circle and made a bigger perimeter.

After another hour or so, it was obvious that it was much, much bigger than we thought. So we extended the circle and made a bigger perimeter again. A job that was originally intended to take 30 minutes ended up taking the entire day plus the elbow grease of four grown men to pull out of the ground.

What was beneath the surface of that little tree were roots that extended well beyond its six to eight-inch circumference. Roots buried much deeper than one would expect for a tree of such short height.

That tree, though small and unassuming, had depth that left it unshakable. It wasn’t going down without a fight.

Oh how I want to be like that tree.

To be cut down only to realize that I am more than what is seen above ground. To have roots and depth that extend miles beyond what is expected from the outside. To not go down without a fight. For the core of what holds me up and gives me life and helps me grow to be hidden so deep below the surface that is insulated and hidden and solid and sure.

Oh how I want to be like that tree.

I fear at times that I’m letting my roots wither and not continuing to feed them so they grow wide and deep. And those times that I feel them withering, I simultaneously hear the sound of the gardener with His shovel slung across His shoulder, whistling as He comes toward me. And He digs a bigger perimeter, just deep enough to get water into my roots, and then He packs it back down again and wipes His brow. And He slings the shovel back across His shoulder and walks away whistling and smiling again.

He’s not letting the tree go down without a fight either. And when the storms rage and the winds howl and the tree is swaying back and forth, He whispers to the roots, “Stand firm. You’re stronger than you know. I’ve given you roots that go deep.” And he pours His water and packs us down and watches us grow and be strengthened.

Oh how He wants me to be like that tree, too.

STOP.

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