Roots

But blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD,
whose confidence is in him.

He will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit.

--Jeremiah 17:7-8 (NIV)

My neighborhood in Johnson City, Tennessee is built on a semi-flood plain. There are all sorts of underground creeks that wind their way through the neighborhood which flows downhill towards the historic downtown district. There’s a creek—Jacob’s Creek, I believe—that runs along the railroad tracks and through downtown. It’s not a major waterway, but it’s home to a few fish, more trash than I’d like to admit and about a zillion ducks. All the water systems that flow under the Tree Streets Historic District neighborhood eventually end up in Jacob’s Creek. My house sits at the edge of the neighborhood, about a quarter of a mile from the Creek. If you didn’t know about these underground water systems it would make the sycamore tree in my backyard seem really out of place. Sycamores require incredible amounts of water and are typically found growing along the banks of rivers, not in backyards in historic districts. However, without this seemingly out-of-place tree, we wouldn’t be able to use our basement. Almost every time it rains, especially during hard rains, water flows downhill—towards the Creek—and through my backyard which floods. The sycamore tree, however, loves it. I’ve never seen water disappear faster than with that sycamore tree (except maybe from my Nalgene after a two mile run.) But it’s almost a symbiotic relationship; without the tree the whole place would flood, but without the floods the tree would die. And even during the last several years, during some of the worst drought in East Tennessee history (rainfall was 20+ inches below normal, cook fires in the national parks in the area were prohibited, and water was rationed in places) the sycamore tree continued to thrive. It did not fear when the heat came and its leaves were always green, for its roots ran deep into the streams.

The sycamore tree helps me make sense of verses like this in Jeremiah. I’m a foreigner here. I don’t sound like them, I don’t think like them, I haven’t been raised like them, I don’t eat like them. By all accounts I’m a bit out of place. But it’s my roots that are important. I can continue to grow here and work here because my roots have been able to reach the stream. My family and friends and my home congregation of Covenant Presbyterian Church have made sure I’m well watered. Without them I would never be able to do what I do. God has blessed me richly with them all. And even here, in this strange land where I’m a bit out of place, I’ve found some fresh streams. The people I work with continue to teach me and prove to me that there is hope here. Belfast and Northern Ireland will not live in drought forever. There are immense untapped streams here which lie just below the surface. So please, continue to cultivate the roots of the saplings in your communities and congregations and families that they might send out their roots to the streams.