Rooted
Beginning in 2004, my family lived on a subtropical island for about ten years. As natives of the high desert in Colorado, my husband and I were not prepared to cultivate the jungle that was our yard. And by cultivate I mean hack back the greenery that constantly threatened to take over our home. Our best lawn tools were machetes, which we routinely wielded.
One of the most prolific trees on our island was the banyan tree. The banyan is easily recognizable because of the roots that grow out from the trees’ high branches and then reach deep into the ground. Have you ever seen a tree that grows roots from up high?
My young daughters loved to play inside the banyans. The above-ground roots made a magical play place, a little kingdom where they could play pretend.
Each root that hangs from the banyan’s branch is actually a new tree. It is evidence of a seed that nestled into a crevice of one of the tree’s branches. Because of the moisture available in the tree and in the air, that little seed easily grows roots and shoots them down to the ground. If someone doesn’t whack away those roots, banyans will multiply and create a dense, impenetrable jungle.
The nutrient-rich sub-tropics support a lavish banyan jungle, no problem. But back in Colorado my husband and I look over our backyard with fledgling brownish grass and shake our heads. We fertilize. We aerate. We water. We try with all our might to create the lush green lawn pictured on the bags of the good soil we bought. But roots have a tough time finding a home in our desert-dry soil.
Roots matter. Soil matters. Without the right kind of soil, roots die and plants perish.
And so it is with us humans and our fragile lives. Without deep roots in the right kind of soil, we perish.
May you be rooted, built up, and established in your faith. - Col. 2:6-7
(Originally posted on social media on June 8, 2022).