Planted

Lovely graphic found at this blog.

When I wrote this post, I went looking for a picture that depicted "deep roots" or some such google-friendly phrase. I found this one and promptly fell in love with it. I'm not sure whether it's got an Art Deco or a Retro (heaven help me, 70s?) vibe. Admittedly, it's not green, but then neither am I. It is autumnal--but then again, roots are supposed to last year round; they are not just a spring-summer thing. The year is waning and sometimes it seems that civilization is too. 

The following came from Morning Prayer a few Saturdays ago.  (The Liturgy of the Hours is my lifeline. If you don't pray the LOTH, please give it a try. It has, at times, kept me alive and functioning.) Sometimes, I merely listen to/pray along with the LOTH podcast (which sort of feels like cheating, but hey, it's still an attempt at prayer, which has got to be better than nothing). Other times, I meditate for much longer on a particular Psalm, a line, or even just one word. Like "Planted." 

Planted in the house of the Lord,

 they will flourish in the courts of our God,

 still bearing fruit when they are old,

 still full of sap, still green,

 to proclaim that the Lord is just.

 In him, my rock, there is no wrong. 

Planted: the key is planted. You cannot be sitting in a flower pot in the courts of our God. You can't be cut off at the stem and sitting in a vase of water. You can't merely be visible from the windows, but growing in the soil outside the house of the Lord (even if you're beautiful and you seem to be thriving--trust me, you're not: at some point, the soil will erode or become barren, or the wind will knock you down, or lightning will strike, or you'll be drowned by a flood, or die of drought and scorching heat). You must be planted IN the house of the Lord.

No better way to survive; no better way to flourish and prosper.

And now you know that it's ok to be sappy.
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