Roots

A few weeks ago I made a little trip up to Dallas to visit my oh-so-adorable little nephew. On my way home, I made a short stop over at Grandma and Grandpa Agee's house to get in a little visit. Little did I know that I would be leaving two hours later with  two pots of mint, a bag full of soil, and instructions to water, but don't drown! (This is actually good advice for an Andrea who has never been able to get anything to actually grow before now.) I brought the mint home, carefully transplanted it into my big beautiful pot, and waited patiently for it to grow. I figured it wouldn't be all that hard, after all, this mint was already growing. It already had roots from Grandma's backyard, where it was planted six years ago when they brought it from Colorado, where Grandma had planted it after carrying it between her legs on the long ride up from Oaxaca. I figured... if it can survive all those trips, of course it can survive a two hour ride down to Waco! 

So, I expected the leaves to just keep on growing. I was horrified then, when every piece of mint in my planter turned brown and dry the day after I moved it here. I had failed again! At that moment, I was ready to give up on ever getting a plant to grow. Little did I know that it's not the leaves, but the roots that need to survive. In some crazy state of mind, I watered the brown leaves and carefully opened the window for the sun to shine in each morning. I talked to my little plant, hoping beyond hope that brown didn't mean dead. For six days there were no signs of growth. Then, one morning, as I greeted my dead little mint plant, I noticed what seemed to be a speck of green among all that ugly brown. Oh how I rejoiced!! I brought Aaron down to see it, and he begrudgingly agreed that it was actually maybe growing. 

Now the green stalks are about 8 inches high, and my sweet little mint plant reminds me of a deeper truth going on in my life. I am putting down roots. From Oaxaca to Wheaton to Des Moines I've traveled. Each place I've put down my own little roots just like the mint plant. Every time I get uprooted it takes time to move past the dryness of a new place, but each time, little by little, new growth occurs. Friendships are made, memories happen, and roots grow deep. Today we joined our church here in Waco, and I am reminded once again of the roots I've left behind, and the new roots I'm growing here in the heart of Texas. I love that our little lives are growing and flourishing along with my plant, and I hope these roots can grow as long as this is the place God has for us! So, today, in the season of thanksgiving, I am thankful for new roots.