Each week Gypsy Mama chooses a word to write about for five minutes. No editing, stream of consciousness. Today's word is: Roots.
Ready. Set. Write.
I must confess I color my hair. Granted, I match my normal hair color, but I do so in an effort to hide those nasty gray roots that I can't believe I have at such a tender age. Ok, so, not THAT tender, but way too young for that nonsense. I swore I'd never color my hair, given I have a Dad with Native American blood that had stark black hair until his 50s and a Mom who barely had a strand of gray before she passed away. But, I caved. Yes, I am vain.
Manipulating my hair follicles is one thing, but the roots I have in my life are not so changeable. My roots derive from my heritage...my parental upbringing...the experiences I've had in life. And they stay grounded now by the choices I make and the beliefs I have. Without strong roots, my tree would waver. There are days when I fear I will topple over the experiences of life. But I cling to that Living Water that nourishes my roots to grow them ever stronger. The more grounded I am in Christ, the less likely I am to allow the storms of life to uproot me.
"He will be like a tree planted by water: it sends its roots out toward a stream, it doesn't fear when heat comes, and its foliage remains green. It will not worry in a year of drought or cease producing fruit." - Jeremiah 17:8
2 comments:
It never occurred to me about the hair roots! (My Ma is like your mother was - hardly any gray. So I don't worry about it much.)
And indeed, there are other roots to consider. Funny how we default to the troubling area and then remember the good parts about the meaning of a word.
xoxo
Enjoyed this.
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