Root-Bound by Lori Wilson

I have been sitting with some anxiety lately. I worry about my parents. I worry about the elections, about AI, about war. Underneath so many of those worries is another: my children and grandchildren. What will the world be like for them? How hard will life become?

Recently, I was transplanting a plant. When I eased it out of its pot, I discovered that it was root-bound. The roots had wound around and around themselves until there was almost no soil left for them to grow into.

Sometimes anxiety feels like that to me. My thoughts circle around and around, searching for answers, but becoming more tangled in themselves. They have nowhere to stretch. Nowhere new to go.

When I notice that happening, I turn to God, and certain words of Scripture often come to me:

Be still, and know that I am God.(Psalm 46:10, NIV)

Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.(Matthew 10:31, NIV)

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.(Psalm 23:4, NIV)

I breathe with the words. I place one hand on my heart and the other on my stomach and close my eyes. I breathe in slowly to a count of four, saying silently, Be still. Then I breathe out to a count of eight, and know that I am God.

I usually do this about four times, very slowly. And little by little, I feel more settled.

As I breathe, I try to rest in the knowledge that God loves me and does not leave me alone in my anxiety. I was never promised a life without difficulty. Jesus says plainly, “In this world you will have trouble” (John 16:33, NIV).

What I am promised is that I will not be alone in it: “I am with you always” (Matthew 28:20, NIV). That gives me comfort.

As for the plant, I found it a larger pot so its roots would have room to stretch. I gave it fresh soil and water. I even talked to it a little and thanked it for being patient with me while I figured out what it needed.

Right now, it still looks a little sad in its new home. Its leaves are brown around the edges and drooping. I hope that with time and tending, it will revive.

I think I am a little like that plant. Even after I breathe and pray, I do not always spring back. Truth be told, sometimes I need this practice more than once a day, or for several days in a row. My root-bound, anxious brain needs tending.

And perhaps that is part of the spiritual life too. Not making the anxiety disappear. Not demanding that we feel better immediately. But allowing God to meet us in the tangle and slowly give us a little more room.

I wonder if God tends us like I tended that plant: giving us room, fresh soil, water, and patience while our roots learn to stretch out again.

Reflection questions:

• What worries or anxieties are you holding right now?

• Can you allow the worry to be there and still invite God into it?

• Where might you need a little more room right now?

• Where might you offer yourself more patience while your roots learn to stretch?

Prayer:

God of constant companionship,

help me rest in the knowledge that you are with me through all the worries and anxieties I hold.

Help me trust that neither I nor those I love will ever be alone, whatever happens in our lives or in the world.

And when I need to calm my worried mind again and again, help me not to be hard on myself.

Give my roots room to stretch.

Amen.