Southern Roots

As a New York transplant of eleven years, it was not till recently that I have considered the stages of being transplanted and how it relates to me. When I look at the life of vegetation can truly compare my human uprooting to that of a plant.
In 1999 my husband needed a change.  He had an opportunity to transfer his job to Syracuse NY.  It was a big deal for him, big raise and become the senior driver for Fedex Freight.  I agreed to the move and on July 4, 2000 I found myself and my family citizens if Central New York.

The first thing that happens to the plant when it is pulled out of it's original soil is it's roots are shocked. Believe me when I say I can totally understand that feeling.  If the gardener does not take precautions in this delicate transition, the plant can be damaged or even dry up and die. My mother taught me that the first thing to do after moving a plant is to give it plenty of water.  Most plants also need regular feeding to continue it's growth in it's new surroundings.
In my case during the first eight plus years, I began to overcome the initial shock of being torn out of my sunny home, I found myself able to bloom on occasion.   All the while I never truly let my roots become stable. Always longing for home, living my life in two states. Feeling trapped by my circumstances. The last two plus years I was hit with major depression.  The chemicals in my brain and hormones in my body went haywire, I believe my reaction to my emotional turmoil allowed a door to open for a spiritual attack as well. My roots became dry and I became sick. My life unproductive, I became recluse to God and to my family.  I was dying spiritually and in some ways physically.  Somewhere between the pulling up and moving I refused to be planted. I started feeling rejected and unloved by most everyone.
Enough was enough and I forced myself to seek the love of my husband, to spend time with my kids, to go to church and to begin to seek the Lord again.  Good thing the master gardener never gave up on me. He held me up, watered, fed and pruned me. Never leaving my side even though I had given up and tried to leave his.
My last trip down home to Georgia I noticed I was unsettled there.  After a messaged from Pastor Dan that touched Doug and I so deeply I was ready to go back to NY.  To be his wife and a good mom to our boys. Be a friend, a church member and a light to Central New York. I love Georgia and I always will but I understand it is time to let go and allow my roots to be planted here. Yes, planted here in the North, where several months out of the year I am covered with snow and frigged cold.  Even in the frozen dark ground something amazing happens. A flower bulb multiplies and makes even more blossoms in Spring and Summer and Some flowers pop there blossoms out in the snow. I have learned that just like a transplanted flower, with love and care I can grow into what I was meant to be. Healthy, beautiful and a blessing to those around me. I trust the Lord, my master, my care giver to allow my roots to grow deeper and healthier than ever before. It really doesn't matter where I live. North or South is just Geography. It is how I live is what truly counts.