Roots.

Friday night was our first FaceDown prayer service at the new church building. It’s weird. And awesome. I can’t believe we have our own building. Our home. The service was amazing. To pray in the place that we have been WAITING for, to look at the sanctuary, the youth room, all these places that we all have been wanting for our own, it was moving. And let me tell you- the decor is fabulous. I know that’s not life changing, but it feels like a home. A REALLY inviting and lovely home. Well done, Melissa and friends.

As I left after FaceDown, I saw a tree. As you know, the weather is whack right now, and the wind was blowing so fiercely. And this little tree, hardly in the ground, was anchored by three strings. All of the sudden, and this won’t surprise you, I loved that tree. That sweet little tree was fighting against the wind, determined to stand up. It was like the tree was saying, “I’m meant to be here. I’m not going anywhere.” So young but not afraid of the wind. And I’m telling you- the wind was serious.

And then I thought of how much the tree was like our church- young, roots so freshly put in the ground that there are still strings holding it there, but not going anywhere. Wind or not, it’s not moving. It’s here to stay, a permanent fixture in the community. Bringing life.

I’m not trying to be overly philosophical, I promise. I just was blessed by the simplicity of new life, a blossoming tree, growing, or at least fighting to stand, beside a blossoming church.

It’s my tree. I’ve claimed it. I’ve decided I want to watch it grow. I want to notice the tree tomorrow, on our first Easter. I want to remember the tree the first time I attend a wedding on a summer afternoon. I want to watch as the strings get removed and the roots that are ready to grow are given the chance to be the support system. I’m ready to see the tree lose it’s leaves in fall. I want to look at the tree the first time I leave a funeral that breaks my heart. The tree will change over the years, and I’ll be there to see it.

It’s my tree. It’s my church. It’s my heart. And we’re all blooming together.

Happy Easter. I love You, Jesus.

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