Over the years, I’ve transplanted various bushes, shrubs, and trees. I’ve learned – through trial and error – that transplanting is rather tricky. You must dig around the roots, leaving a fair amount of dirt and a sizable root ball to ensure that the plant has a good chance of sustaining itself in its new location. But even if you dig out a sizable root ball, you always wind up severing some of the existing roots. No matter how hard you try, you always create shock for the plant when you remove it from its home.
To
minimize the effect of this shock, you get the plant into its new location as quickly as possible, surrounded by freshly turned dirt, lots of good soil, and all sorts of mulch, compost, and other nutrients. If the plant survives the initial shock, then it likely will survive. The goal, of course, is that the plant will do more than survive…you want it to thrive. That requires a great deal of patience, because the plant needs time for the root ball to begin to grow again. Once the plant permeates the new ground around its new location with a new root system, the plant once again will thrive. It just takes time and patience.
"Time". "Patience".
Two words that have become a central part of my life over the past couple of years. Two words that, quite frankly, I would rather not have to deal with. Because sometimes I get tired of waiting to reach the goal. Sometimes I just want to arrive and be done.
Our relocation has much in common with transplanting. When we finally pulled up stakes in Fullerton…when we severed our roots…it definitely was a shock to the system. But we arrived here and we were placed in the good soil of Garden Way Church. We have been welcomed and loved and affirmed. We have survived the shock. We know that God has called us here, so we have every confidence that we will thrive. But now we must wait. We must have patience. Why? Because putting down roots…the deep, live-giving roots that form the essence of long-term relationships… simply takes time.
I have a mental picture of our emotional/relational root ball. We are sitting comfortably in our new bed, surrounded by rich soil that is full of nutrients. We can see tiny new roots starting to form, sending their tendrils out into the surrounding soil. In the weeks, months, and years (years!) ahead, these new roots will thicken and grow. They will extend out further and further. They will dig their way deeper and deeper into the earth. And the end result will be a plant that is firmly established; a plant that is thriving; a plant that is producing rich relational fruit.
Blessed is the person…whose delight is in the law of the LORD, and who meditates on his law day and night. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither - whatever they do prospers. [Psalm 1:1-3]
We long for our roots to be as strong and deep here as they were in Fullerton. We look forward to that day with eagerness. So we hold firmly onto God…we daily build more connections with the people around us…and we try to wait patiently for this process to unfold.
- Bruce
