Rooted and Grounded in Love

I pray that, according to the riches of [God's] glory, [God] may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through [God's] Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.--Ephesians 3:16-19, NRSV

I know it's September 11, and that means that I am obligated to mention that this is the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington, D.C.  However, I have a lot on my mind and heart that has very little to do with the atrocities of that day a full decade ago.  See, I was barely a college freshman on 9/11/01, having moved into the dorm mere days before.  It was the beginning of my undergraduate journey.  Ten years later, which have passed in an instant, here I sit, having completed my first reading assignment for my new educational journey.  This week, I will begin my seminary classes in pursuit of my Master of Divinity degree.  After two false starts, I am finally going to get this degree.

Two days ago, I sat in yet another seminary's orientation program as an M.Div. candidate. The information was much the same as the other two seminaries' information, but the orientation process could not have felt more different. I cannot remember having such joy about what I was doing.  This is no longer just a logical next step for me; I'm not getting this degree because it seems like the path of least resistance toward a graduate degree.  In fact, for the first time, I am nervous about my seminary education.  The stakes are higher because I care about being well-equipped to be a minister rather than just regurgitating information to get the A.  Despite my minor anxieties, though, I am so calm and joyful about this journey.  I am teeming with gratitude, joy, and excitement about what life holds in store.

There are no words for the depths of misery in which I've lived for the past three years.  It's not worth it to recount the deals I made with myself, the ways in which I bribed myself to simply put one foot in front of the other.  I have been a fish out of water and have been utterly unrecognizable to myself.  We all know from events like 9/11/01, Pearl Harbor, the Kennedy assassination, or even from something on a more personal scale, like a diagnosis, that one day can rip our worlds apart.  My world ripped open in several ways three years ago, and I've spent a lot of time trying to undo things that cannot be undone.  Even the great days, some of which were really great, couldn't put my life back together.  The moments of clarity were miracles--the decisions and work that got me to church, to seminary, and to the path toward ministry were truly miraculous in the midst of my listless, depressed, lazy self-absorption.



The Scripture passage from Ephesians that I quoted at the top of the post talks about being "rooted and grounded in love."  More than ever, I feel that.  Love has gotten me here, and I can see the faces of each person whose hugs have sustained me, whose encouragement has moved me forward when my felt felt like concrete blocks.  In one day, I now know, what has been undone can be transformed.  After three years of being undone,the joy of being so rooted in the love of my faith/family/friend communities overwhelmed me as I worshiped with my new seminary community.  How blessed and fortunate I am to have so many people who love me when there are those who have no one.  How blessed and fortunate I am to have so many people I love, people to whom I feel a responsibility both to care for them and to share their gifts of love with everyone I meet.  I am rooted and grounded in love--the love of God and the love of communities of amazing people who inspire, challenge, and uplift me.  It's the richest and most gratifying feeling I can imagine.  I hear people talk about the importance of having roots and wings, and I feel like right now I am feeling the depth of my roots even as I prepare to spread my wings in new and exciting ways.

This might seem overly saccharine or naive; I assure you I am neither.  There is no doubt that hard times lay ahead, that the road will not always be a smooth one.  There is simply a vast difference in working from a place of depressed and anxious insecurity and working from a place of confident and tranquil self-knowledge.  In the past two days, people who have only known me within the context of the past few years have said that I seem like a completely different person.  My mother says I sound like my old self.  They're all right; the two are one and the same.  I'm more complexly authentically me, and I can't wait to engage my complete, authentic self in the work of ministry.

Thanks be to the One Whose call is persistent, Whose love is abundant, and Whose communion is constant.  And thanks be to you, whoever you are, for being a special person on my journey.