Thankful

Not long ago, I received an email update from a friend who is a missionary overseas. As I was reading her email, one quote seemed to jump right off the page:

"The next step after a seed is planted is not fruit; it’s roots."

This quote helped me define exactly what it is that I am thankful for this Thanksgiving—roots. I am starting to grow roots, however slowly and tentatively. It feels like it has taken such a long time to feel secure enough for roots to start taking hold. And no wonder—in the ten years since I finished high school I have lived in ten different homes, across four different cities/parts of the world. I suppose that's the life of a student, but it always seemed like I would just start making friends and then have to say goodbye; I would just get used to my classes or work and then be moving on to the next chapter. But somehow, just recently, I am actually starting to feel like I belong where I am, like I have roots.

It is easy to become frustrated by a perceived lack of "fruit", feeling like I don't have many friends, like I don't belong, like I'm just surviving. But this quote helped remind me that things take time. We can't throw our lives together in a few days or weeks. Our lives are more like a garden—grown and cultivated over many years. It's so easy to see how far I have to go, but today I'm thankful that my roots are growing.

Part of me is terrified that something will happen, that things will change again, and I will again feel the pain of those tender roots being torn out of their soil. It has happened so often over the past ten years—so often that those roots that used to stretch out eagerly have become reluctant and tentative. But still, there they are.

The place where I have noticed these roots the most lately is at church. Jesse and I have been attending the same church for four years now—ever since we got married and decided that we wanted to find a home church. Last Sunday we had a communion service and there was a time of sharing when people from the congregation could stand up and share something that was on their heart. As I looked around the congregation, I suddenly realized that I felt like I was home, that this is my church, and my family. It was quite an overwhelming moment for me, because I haven't felt like that in so long.

I am very thankful for my church. It is not perfect, of course, but I see a community of people who are learning and growing and seeking to follow in the way of Jesus. It is a place where we have a voice and where we have something to offer. Jesse and I are still trying to make friends there—it is slow going, especially when so much of the congregation has been attending for so long and already has their friends and connections. But at least now when I look around me I see faces that I know. There are many whose stories I have heard, and many whose struggles I know and care about.

Sometimes it is easier to think about how it takes so long for roots to grow. Our Thanksgiving weekend is event-less, except for playing a game of D&D online with a friend. Our family is far away, and most people are busy with their own families. We keep trying to make new friends and connect with old friends who are still in the area, but it always seems like everyone is too busy. But this Thanksgiving I want to focus on the roots that I have been growing, however slowly it may be. I am thankful to finally be home.