Originally written: September 15, 2015
Brian was home for lunch today, and we decided to spread a blanket on the lawn under the shade of a big oak tree while the boys rode their new bikes around and around (and around!) in circles on the driveway (oh yes, we had two birthdays in the Allerding house!). Normally I’d just grab a chair—I don’t love creepy crawly things—but today it sounded relaxing, peaceful.
Looking up, the branches reached out like veins on an arm extending towards the heavens, and I was in awe. The trees reach so high—like a mighty tower—and it is so hard for me to wrap my head around the way they stand firm and do not fall. It makes me pause to appreciate the Lord’s handiwork—this tree came from a tiny seed. And it will grow and grow and grow, higher than nearly anything we could construct. And it will stand. Through the wind and the rain, and it will live far longer than I.
And so I asked Cameron if he knew how the trees stand like they do without falling?
“No, Mom,” he said. “How do they do that?”
And I told him: “It’s all in the roots.”
I wish I could say I launched into a science lesson from there (mom of the year award—sorry, not me), but I didn’t. I just paused to take in the majesty of God’s creation. How can something that tall, that long, that heavy, stand so firmly?
It later got me to thinking about Ephesians 3:16-19...
16 I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Ann and I have been chatting about these verses recently, about what it means to be rooted in Christ’s love. It struck me then, but it strikes me even more boldly after sitting beneath the tree.
Recently I’ve been having this feeling in the pit of my heart—like the feeling you get when something big is coming and your stomach is just heavy or “in knots,” as the saying goes. But it’s in my heart and my stomach—all of me. It’s like I don’t feel—anything—except for that. And it’s been bothering me.
It’s strange, I know—hard to articulate.
But through prayer, through the Holy Spirit bringing me back again and again to Ephesians, through the tree…
I think my heart is rooted.
It’s tied down, in knots, and He’s not letting me go.
How awesome is that?!
Again and again I think to myself, How can I not be afraid?
And yet, I’m not!
And yet it’s almost like I want to be afraid because the world says I SHOULD be. And I’m ashamed to confess it because it speaks to my brokenness. Even in my emotions I want to fit in with this world. So I confess my shortcoming, and I ask for forgiveness, and I praise the God in heaven for His mighty protection!
I am so thankful to be rooted in the Lord. I am thankful for this peace that surpasses all understanding, and I am in awe “to know this love that surpasses knowledge.”