Rooted in Christ – a podcast

If you’ve clicked over to my blog instead of reading this in e-mail format, you’ll notice the blog makeover! It’s not quite finished yet, so please bear with some of the minor blips – most noticeably right now – how slow it is to load. It will all be taken care of, and I’ll give you a mini tour, plus more on my talented designer when it’s ready.

This weekend we went to Normandy for a church retreat. The theme this month has been Colossians, and being rooted in Christ. I was very honoured to be asked to speak for about 15 minutes and share a bit about myself, and what it means for me to be rooted in Christ.

So! I have a podcast for you, which will be complete gibberish unless you speak French. But I’m putting it here anyway – in case you wanted to hear me speak French! 😉 I’m a podcast newbie so the sound quality is not the best, particularly for the first minute. But it does get better.

And I just have to say that I was shocked and dismayed to hear how strong my American accent is when I speak French! I had totally deceived myself into thinking I sounded like a local. Sigh. Oh well.

So here goes nothing. Podcast in French, translation in the text below in English.

Rooted in Christ

On December 11 this year, I will have been a Christian for twenty years.

On December 12, Matthieu will reach his twenty years as well, though we didn’t know each other at the time.

A lot can happen in twenty years. A lot of highs, and a lot of lows, and many, many ordinary, mundane hours in between.

In twenty years, I have overcome addiction to alcohol, but I’ve been unable to curb my emotional eating.

I’ve had the courtship and wedding of a princess –

But I quickly lost my figure, and now I’m in my mid-forties, wondering if my youth is over. Is a new beginning even possible? Or is this the beginning of the end?

I married the most handsome, strong, steady, spiritual man in the world – for me at least 😉 – and yet we weathered a year with him unemployment, a major split in our church, and the after-effects of a city that was destroyed in 9/11 – all at once.

We left for a year’s humanitarian work in Africa and saw miracles that rivaled the feeding of the 5000. And I carried Moguay to the hospital – the orphan I was caring for – so that they could save his life…

only to carry his dead body back to the orphanage to be buried in a shallow grave amid other shallow graves.

I have grown from an insecure girl, desperate for attention, even if it meant selling body and soul to the first boy that walked by, to a mature, confident, rooted woman, who is secure in the love of Christ.

And yet … I still need to take anti-depressants from the side-effects of head trauma when I was hit by a car 22 years ago.

We were blessed with three healthy, beautiful, tender-hearted children. And I delivered my fourth baby – perfectly-formed, at fifteen weeks – in the shower in the middle of the night. We drove with the three kids to the hospital, with me hemorrhaging the whole way.

I started a blog, and won awards; I wrote a book, and won prizes, but I fail in the everyday things. I can’t seem to stay on top of laundry or cleaning, or gardening. I’m distracted around my children, I’ve little time to spend time with friends. I’m always frazzled, always behind.

That’s a lot of highs in twenty years. That’s a lot of lows. And it doesn’t even touch the hours and hours of mundane, ordinary, in-between.

In life, the highs and lows are like the tip of the iceberg. There are very few of them compared to the hidden face of the iceberg – the ordinary days.

But it’s in these intense moments of highs and lows that I really feel like I’m alive.

Which means that most of the time I feel like I’m under anaesthesia. I’m too busy and distracted to feel anything. And that’s because I don’t stop and drink the living water that Jesus offers me.

Sometimes maturing in the faith is harder than being a young fresh-faced Christian straight out of the water. When you’ve been faithful for 20 years, you realise that life didn’t turn out exactly the way you hoped it would. You’ve had time to fail. You’ve already fallen many times. You’ve had time to forget your first love. You’ve had time to get hard-hearted. When I’m disappointed by life, I’m not pushing my roots down deep in Christ to get the healing I need.

I stand before you a weak woman.

And yet, I am still here!

I think what’s kept me rooted these twenty years, in all the highs and lows, and the mass of ordinary days doesn’t really have all that much to do with me, and what I do.

I mean, sure, I’m loyal. And stubborn. I’m not going to start start something only to not finish. But it’s not stubbornness that keeps me rooted.

I think if I’m still rooted and faithful after twenty years, it’s because Jesus has taken hold of me.

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Philippians 3:12

Christ Jesus took hold of me. He said no one can snatch me out of his hand. No one can snatch me out of his Father’s hand. The same is true for you, oh faithful one. No one can snatch you from your Father’s hand.

Jesus is the source that never dries up.

We have this beautiful linden blossom tree that fills our back window with green leaves in the summer.

It’s massive, and it was trimmed regularly over its lifetime to keep it from dwarfing the house. Before we moved in, and after the tree had grown quite large, a cement patio was poured around the house. Still, the roots continued to grow. And they’ve broken cracks in the cement as they got larger.

When we first moved in, we tried to water the tree. You know, by pouring little watering cans of water here where the concrete met the roots?

I know! It’s so ridiculous, right? A tree as large as that one gets its water straight from the source. As high and wide as its branches are – are as deep and wide as its roots are.

It doesn’t need me to give it water. It’s roots are already strong and deep. When Christ takes hold of us, he pushes the roots down to the source. The Spirit works in us to strengthen us so we can continually get nourished from the source.

With Jesus, the living water never runs out, and he doesn’t need our cute little watering systems – our strategies – in order to keep the streams of water abundantly flowing. He promises me that streams of living water will flow out of me, and it’s through no effort of my own. He promises the same thing for you.

Rooted in Christ, we drink deeply and are satisfied.

If you feel like you’re not in a great place right now – maybe you have small (or not so small) kids, you’re in poor health, you can’t overcome a particular sin, you are hard-pressed on every side, and you feel like it’s stealing all of your joy and faith – you wonder if you are that hard soil that Jesus talks about, on which nothing can grow …

If you’re struggling, don’t worry, because Jesus specializes in growing out of dry, compacted earth.

Isaiah 53:2 says, “He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.

He can grow in your heart too, no matter how compacted it is, no matter where you are on your journey.

When we bought our black bamboo to plant in a concrete well in our garden, we pulled the plant out of the flowerpot, and the roots were choked, like this.

My mom was there helping us garden, and she taught me to cut them. It seems like it will hurt the plant, but you need to cut the roots that bind and strangle the other roots. It needs to be done so that new roots can grow freely into the soil, and so that the plant will not be stunted.

Now our bamboo looks like this.

When we become Christians, we bring our pasts with us, that have been molded to whatever life we had before – the dysfunctions or sins or unhealthy patterns we bring into our relationship with Christ are like roots that bind us tight and threaten to strangle us. We need to let God cut the choking roots, no matter how painful, and allow ourselves to reach out and be rooted in Christ. He knows how to do this best – he knows how to free us!

Some sat in darkness, in utter darkness,

prisoners suffering in iron chains,

because they rebelled against God’s commands

and despised the plans of the Most High.

So he subjected them to bitter labor;

they stumbled, and there was no one to help.

Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

and he saved them from their distress.

He brought them out of darkness, the utter darkness,

and broke away their chains.

Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love

and his wonderful deeds for mankind,

for he breaks down gates of bronze

and cuts through bars of iron. Psalm 107:11-16

If I’m still rooted in Christ it’s because he freed me. He took hold of me. He tapped into an eternal source of living water and allowed it to flow out abundantly from me.

God created the highs and the lows. He also created the every day, because each day is a chance to see his wonder and his glory.

Yes, the everyday is the mess, the waiting, the noise, the things to do that never end, the irritations, the struggles, the hurt feelings, the frustrations, the chores. But it’s also the sun shining on the gold leaves of autumn and the smell of coffee on a cold day and kisses from a toothless baby chewing on your chin.

A couple of days ago, I was working hard to finish some website projects and I was having trouble figuring out how to do something. And the kids kept interrupting me so that I couldn’t focus. I wanted to scream with frustration.

I decided to go outside and be quiet. Pull some weeds, sweep the leaves that had fallen, trim the wild sage under the clothesline. And when I stopped to appreciate God’s creation, I was able to get out of my own world and focus on his. I smelled the thyme and felt the sun caress my face. I waved to Juliet as she went out the gate. I smiled at Matthieu as he was busy working in the studio. I took off my sweater as I worked in the garden. And I thanked God.

The roots in you are already in place. You just need to stop and drink.

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