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Before the foundations of the earth, I knew you…

You are fearfully and wonderfully made…

I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you, not to harm you; to give you a future and a hope…

These are my roots. They anchor me in the muck and mire of this world.

Of this life of striving and growing and storms and rain and sun.

Heaven on earth.

And everything else.

On those days when I don’t understand my place in this world.

When I don’t see You; hear You; feel You.

Those days when all I see is my failures; my filth; my inadequacies.

I come back to those things I know to be True. These indisputable promises from Your mouth to my heart.

Theses Words of Life hold me fast; often times buried far beneath the surface unbeknownst to anyone – even myself at times.

The winds and storms of life blow and buffet. The elements of this world bully and beat and these Roots hold strong. Drawing strength, nutrients, food, water – life – from things seemingly void. I come back to them time and again.

And every now and then they peek out and show themselves to those willing to look and see. And then they know that it is not I, but He who lives in me.

Every week I join up with the crowd with LisaJo Baker for five straight minutes of writing: no editing, no stopping. This week’s prompt is ROOTS.