Thursday, April 23, 2009
I caught a blog entry from one of the billions of blogs I was surfing tonight, and I apologize that I won't be able to give credit to it. It struck a chord with me. She talked about being planted and how she hadn't allowed herself to in her "new" home of 3 years or so. I can so relate!
It's funny how all my life, my goal was to get as far away as possible. I remember looking at colleges that were on each coast, and since I lived smack-dab in the middle of the country, that was as far as I could imagine going.
I grew up in the same house throughout my childhood, minus my first few months that went to readying the house with remodels. If I remember correctly, I have always had the same room. It was the 2nd floor south east corner room. I liked the views from my window. It stretched out as far as the eye could see out east. I could see for miles. In western Kansas, that is a typically simple feat. The landscape is marred by the occasional tree cluster that indicated a farm yard either past or present. Most were relatively present tense as drought and late freezes had worked their way through, diminishing the cottonwoods and elms that mostly sprang up around the old farm houses. I went to school with the same 8 or so kids from pre-school through my senior year with various additions/subtractions every year. I even had one teacher that was only a couple years late with teaching my dad. Yes, I grew up in a place of heritage, where everyone knew who I was, or who I belonged to.
It sounds so quaint, peaceful, sweet. I loved it until I hit Jr.High and then I despised it. I couldn't uproot myself any which way I tried. I tried many many ways for many years. Try as I might, I could not establish my own identity apart from that family tree. I didn't just want to uproot, I wanted to be pruned off completely. Looking back, the heritage that I was linked to was a fairly good one. It wasn't that I was embarrassed by it, I just wanted my own identity.
It's fascinating to see how in the last 12 years I have fought hard to keep my roots shallow in order to have a quick and painless move whenever I needed it. My relationships with most everyone, with very few exceptions, have been intentionally shallow. That way, WHEN I move, it won't be hard. In the last 12 years I have moved 9 times. The longest I have stayed in any home has been 3 years. Am I still so afraid to put down roots? (oh, and it's pronounced like foot, not boot where I came from!) Yes, I am. Why? I don't really know.
My next question begs to ask why I am sharing this. Again, I don't really know. I think it's to help me process why I think God is asking me to plant myself a million miles from where I want to be. Where is that? I don't know that either. Just not so far away from my sister, who consequently I spent that childhood trying to separate myself from! Perhaps I am supposed to enlarge my borders like Jabez. But I'm not asking for it! Oh dear. It's that growth thing I think. Did God give me the desire through my youth to experience distance to prepare me for experiencing distance? I'm likely over thinking that one.
I have no answers. I'm not sure God is giving those to me just yet. I have noticed that I disengage with people after a period of time, and prepare to leave [the relationship]. I don't think I should do that. I am reminded of a verse in Proverbs, and I can't remember where, that states something like; better is a friend nearby than a distant brother. I took huge offense to that. There is no one better than my sister. Period. Have I given anyone a chance to be anything close? Of course not. Oh dear. I'll have to find that verse again and make sure it really said that!
I think what I'm saying, is that I need to put down some roots. They don't have to go down to Australia, but I need to at least put out some feeder roots. I know enough about plants to know that if you keep one in a pot forever, it will become stunted. I really don't want my growth to be stunted. I also know that those feeder roots are easily damaged, and they don't all make it. But some do. Some grow and ... ok, I'm getting a bit dreamy here. You know where I'm going!
Alright, time to feed the plants: Mr Wonderful is home and needs his supper!