Deep Roots and an Empty Tomb
Deep Roots and an Empty Tomb
In these past few days, I have found solace in my plants. I am especially a fan of succulents and cacti and potting and tending to them make me feel closer to God. I especially love these desert plants because they are so resilient and can take a fair amount of neglect and are therefore quite easy to care for. Unlike most other plants, you can chop the head clean off of a succulent. Not only will a new one (or two) grow back in it's place, but the head will sprout roots and survive if you replant it.
For my wedding in February, I knew I wanted to use succulents in my bouquets. They can be quite expensive as bouquets, so I decided to buy the cuttings wholesale and make the bouquets with my mom the day before the wedding, supplementing the heavy succulents with some lighter greenery and colorful roses which were deeply discounted the week after Valentines Day. I was thrilled with the result and may have found a new passion to boot.
One of the most special souvenirs from perhaps the happiest day of my life is the succulents from my bouquets. About a month ago I disassembled the withered bouquet, tossing the dead roses and withered greenery to find that the resilient desert plants had sprouted aerial roots from their cut stems and were searching their surroundings for moisture. They were ready to be planted.
The star of the bouquet, a massive echeveria, was given its own home, a sturdy pot with well-draining soil and a sunny spot in my window to live. Yesterday as I was tending my plants, I inspected it, gently pulling up one of the sturdy leaves to check the moisture of the soil beneath it. To my surprise, I found a whole network of roots had burst forth and spread out into the soil, extending all the way out to the edges of the pot I had planted it in.
From above the soil, the plant itself looked healthy but unchanged in the few weeks since I had planted it. And yet so much growth had taken place beneath the surface of the soil, ensuring the plant would receive the nutrients it needed to thrive in its new environment.
2020 will go down in history books as quite a wild year. With the threat of a pandemic daily on our minds, we are so keenly aware of how fragile the ecosystems of our bodies are and how vulnerable our communities are to this invisible viral threat in our midst.
I will be the first to confess that it does not feel like Easter. Sure, the telltale signs of life are springing up all around to indicate it is that time of year. But the feeling in the air feels a little closer to that of the tomb than the resurrection.
But as I look at the brand new roots of this once dead little plant before me, I feel a nudge from creation preaching the gospel to me: that the end is not the end.
It may feel like a season of uprooting, of pruning, but the creator of all life would have you know that the valley of dry bones has come to life, the cut plant has sprouted new roots, and the tomb is empty.
Thanks be to God.
Kelsey Lewis Vincent
Pastor to Youth and Families
First Baptist Church of Decatur