Remembering My Roots

                This day has not gone according my plans. After a full week of work I was ready for an escape (read like Dory) and planned a solo day trip to Eastern Washington—mostly for a change of scenery and to drive a direction I don’t normally go. For me, like my father, driving and a change of pace clears my head. As the mountains turn to forest and then desert, my mind shifts between events, memories, emotions. Occasionally I’ll listen to a sermon but normally it’s just silent or music-filled. It’s a therapeutic endeavor that leaves me refreshed and refocused when I pull back into our driveway.

                But today I woke up with a sore throat and foggy head—derailing my day trip plans. Thankfully, I was able to go back to bed and sleep past my internal clock. Now I’m hunkered down with my journal, a pile of books, coffee, and my Masai blanket. As I began to process—sans the “wind in my hair, tunes blasting” feeling—my thoughts shifted toward what I can still get out of this day. A true Saturday (lame pun, polite pity laughter not necessary). Just last night my dad and I discussed how we both like to escape by travelling and it was this morning, replaying that conversation, that it became a refreshing reminder of my roots. As I get older, I find myself doing more and more habitual things like my parents—ways of sitting/twiddling my hands, etc. You can’t erase your roots. In fact, today, I didn’t need to get away, I needed to get back—remember that my roots of worth don’t come from my  accomplishments, appearance, relationship status, my goals—no, it is rooted in being chosen, loved, and in redemption. I cannot work to be perfect, chosen, adored. I falter and feel lost when I forget and when I try to earn things I can’t or impress people whose approval is fleeting, frail, and hollow—only echoes of the acceptance I already have.

                So as I settle into the couch, pick a book from the pile, and sip my now luke-warm coffee—I dedicatethis day as one of rest—appreciating and reflecting on the roots of grace that “have brought me safe thus far and grace [that] will (and today specifically) lead me home”.