A tree lives on its roots. If you change the root, you change the tree. Jane Hirshfield
While walking a wooded area of a beautiful park, I noticed several tree roots at my feet. My two thoughts? 1) Don’t twist an ankle. 2) Roots are often used as metaphors for families.
My second thought traveled with me throughout the arboreal adventure. Winding through the sun streaked path, I considered how some families have deep, long-reaching, strong and healthy roots, while others have slim threads, easily crushed underfoot.
My husband and I have small immediate and virtually no extended family that we are close with. This has been at the forefront of my mind recently as we finalized my son’s wedding guest list and his bride has a considerable number of “immediate” blood family members.
If we assume family roots are a fabric threading people together and provide a sense of belonging to others who have your back…love unequivocally…consistently…where you are encouraged to grow into all God created you to become…my husband and I lacked steady reference points.
So, we decided to become the roots our children needed and with Him, built a solid rock foundation under our three gifts. Foolishly, I thought it was also God’s work to try and bring the immediate blood folks along with us.
For too many years, we made serious efforts with distant and closer relatives to establish roots. Despite the brokenness inherited on both sides, I put considerable time into nourishing relationships in a variety of ways. I wrongly assumed blessing them would at some point spark their hearts to become rooted alongside us. To become people my kids could rely upon, model, trust.
Instead of our commitment to family and our children inspiring better behavior, it curiously invited egregiously misplaced judgement. Turns out, people like that aren’t good role models for children anyway.
Something is deeply wrong in the core of some trees…bad roots… and it’s necessary to roll your apples far away from certain orchards and give them new roots.
Mid-life (and beyond) gives unique perspective. Righteous anger rises from not taking the past trash out to the woodshed at the time. The sorting out process starts, ends and true freedom reigns.
We tilled new ground and carefully tended our children’s roots at they grew into adulthood. We look forward to nourishing even stronger, deeper roots for our future grandchildren. Intertwined roots that support and help, not choke the spirit. Continuing a family home that anchors, builds and lifts their beloveds high so they consistently soar, not sour.
Yep. I got all that from a half-hour walk among tree roots….time for this deep thinker to go watch a comedy.
Tales from a Mid-Lifer 
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