Rogue Roots

As I sit in the prayer alcove and gaze out the window, I notice the way the pretty bush outside is shooting random branches in all directions. Then I see the thorny stems of a rogue wild rose weaving between the bush’s branches. And bird-planted seedling of a Norwegian spruce. Not to mention a couple of purple willow herb weeds and even a straggling honeysuckle. 

Gosh, I wasn’t away that long but it doesn’t take long for the weeds and unwanted plants to infiltrate and take root. 

Life is all about change. Some is welcome. The bush itself is about to burst into pretty pink flowers, dainty and profuse. Some is unwelcome. Weeds winding their roots in and out of the roots of this bush (whose name I do not know!). 

The bush of life is beautiful but requires diligence to prevent unwanted entanglements to stunt or hamper its growth. Today I have heard the news of another acquaintance facing terminal cancer. That’s the third in as many months. Tragic and sad but still, the bush of life is beautiful. God is love. I will continue to see his love and his faithfulness even through the tears and sorrow. I don’t understand but he does, and because he is love we can be assured that in the end, all will be well.

Change is hard. My dear mother is struggling to adjust to a new environment, a new way of life, at nearly 91. Her own things surround her but other than that, everything is different. It’s so sad. I don’t like the change either, but I will pull back and see the big picture from the eternal perspective Jesus has given us by ascending to heaven and taking us in him. (Ephesians). 

Focusing on the hope, trusting in the promises, takes diligence and effort, but with God’s help I am sure it is possible to walk through any season in his peace and in his presence.

The Benefits of a Good Pruning

I’d forgotten that I had a view of the hill from my kitchen window, because the Leylandi had obscured it for so long.

Then Don trimmed some of the lower branches. Wow!

Not only has the view been restored, and much enjoyed as it faces west and allows me to soak in the glory of some amazing sunsets, but wind resistance has been decreased, giving the tree a better chance of keeping a grip on the ground.

Some things which have become a part of us are not good for us. For instance, my aim in life is to live a life which is as transparent as possible, so that others can glimpse God. Not that I am holy and living a perfect life, but that when I mess up, others can see God’s grace at work within me. When I am under pressure, others can see God’s strength pulling me through. When I am falling apart, others can see God pulling me back together. 

But if I have allowed unhelpful ‘branches’ to grow – perhaps some personality traits which are not very godly – then the view of God becomes restricted, or even obliterated.

So at the beginning of 2014, I am opening myself up to the divine Gardener to prune off those bits which are really restricting a view of God and resisting the fresh wind of his Holy Spirit. 

And I am aiming to sink my roots deeper into Jesus in the process.

Happy New Year.

Anchored

      

We thought she might go over, and over she went, right in the middle of an episode of Cheers.

Yes, the tipsy angel and in fact the entire tree pitched sideways, casting baubles and candy canes hither and thither and throwing the angel into the corner. Now, although it is rather ugly, the tree is anchored to the curtain rail with a thick piece of string. 

That’s what happens when we’re not rooted and grounded, when we’re not anchored to something immovable. We begin to slip sideways, maybe imperceptibly, but then all of a sudden, we go over.

I don’t know about you, but I’m anchored to God, my roots down deep in Jesus, hopefully growing deeper every day. 

It’s too easy to go over otherwise.

Sinking deep

Dusty and I diverted from our usual walk this morning. Having followed her nose to the ‘haunted house’, she then lost interest and wanted to turn back, so we went through a field. There are two crops planted in this field, we’ve been told, and at least one has sprouted in absolutely straight rows. We therefore hugged the perimeter of the field – or at least I did – and when I got to the spot where it trails off into rocks and trees, I noticed that many of the plants along the edge row were no longer in place. They had slipped and slid into a wee gully, where the sodden ground still bore signs of a heavy rainfall.

Some of the plants managed to hang on and remain in place. But some were halfway down the slope, some all the way down, and some had disappeared altogether. 

Yesterday I was thinking about the story of Philip sharing the gospel with the eunuch on the desert road. Philip knew his Bible. He was able to pick up what the eunuch was reading out loud, and share the gospel from that point. He was confident and able because he was well grounded in Scripture. His roots were deep.

It is so important to be steeped in the Bible – not only so that we can evangelize or explain about what God has done, but also so that we don’t slip when the heavy rains come.

Because come they will, and a good grasp of God will keep us from sliding away.

What lies beneath?

Haven’t walked Dusty along the River Dee for ages – I have to avoid it when it’s fishing season as she is desperate to swim for sticks, and the fishermen do not appreciate a boisterous dog flinging herself with abandon into the current!

Today is overcast and grey; the wind is whipping up the leaves already strewn on the ground and blowing more off the trees. Fishing season ended a fortnight ago so we combined a river walk with a trip to the store.

We know a couple of places where the current bypasses inlets, and that’s where I throw the sticks. Dusty is a strong swimmer but she could be swept away in the Dee. As I stood flinging sticks into one of these safe havens, suddenly a salmon broke the steely coloured water just feet away, and just as suddenly sank back out of sight. 

I’d not been expecting it. They jump up a boulder ladder further upstream in order to reach their spawning grounds, but I’d forgotten they sometimes pop out before that, perhaps to get their bearings?

Made me wonder how many others were trying to make it home to spawn. Amazing the homing instinct and the great strength and determination of animals to get back to their ‘roots’.  

We all belong to God – we all started out with him, and he is our Father, waiting for us to go home.  I’ve been thinking a lot about outreach recently, and thinking of the hurting, hungry souls trying to get back to their ‘roots’. 

How can we help them find the way?