Firmly Rooted

I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 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, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Ephesians 3:17-19, NIV

WHEN IT COMES to plants, I adore them. But I kill them. I wish I had a green thumb like my mom; she can take a dry, crusty patch of desert and turn it into an oasis. Me? I accidentally overwater or underwater or put shade plants in the scorching sun or sun plants in dark corners, where they crumple.

For more than twelve years my family lived in a 1920s fixer-upper, and every nook of the house needed love and care, including the backyard. When we first moved in, half of the yard was no longer grass but an invasion of mint. This mint had formed an army and was not backing down, so we overhauled the entire plot of land and started fresh with a new deck and landscaping.

One of the shrubs we decided to plant was a rose of Sharon. My mom gave her fair warning as soon as she heard, but as daughters often do with their mother’s advice, I listened and then did the opposite. And then discovered she was right after I was entirely too far down the road.

This rose of Sharon was strong and fast. It rooted itself and immediately multiplied shoots everywhere. And it did not stick to my garden layout. Oh, no. It decided when and where it would root itself, thank you very much. It knew who it was and firmly planted itself in my backyard.

One morning as I was weeding, I came across a rose of Sharon shoot about two feet high. No biggie, I thought. I’ll just pull this sucker up and keep on going. Girls, this shoot was stronger and deeper than anyone could imagine. I tugged and pulled and nearly passed out trying.

It did not move. And it won. It is still there six years later, happily rooted, not bothered, not anxious, and fully aware of who she is. A firmly rooted rose of Sharon, that’s who.

If I can’t beat her, I’ll join her. I want to be as firmly rooted and established in the soil of God’s love as she is. I want to stand tall, unwavering, confident, beautiful, bending but not breaking through both the storms and sunshine of life. I want to know that I can never be plucked up from the soil of God’s love. And I know you do too.

I love how the apostle Paul hammers this home for us in Romans 8:38-39:

I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (NIV)

Not one thing can separate you from his love.

Not your anxiety.

Not your depression.

Not your chronic illness.

Not your debt.

Not your pain.

Not your scars.

Not your fears.

Not your broken marriage.

Not your failures.

He tore the curtain from top to bottom the day He was crucified to display there is nothing that prevents us from His love. We can rest in this love, stand tall in this love, and stay firmly rooted in this love.

GRACE REFLECTION: Think about God’s love and faithfulness through a storm in your life. What did His grace look like during that time?