Grows. What a funny last name, eh? I always say that it's one of
God's best jokes yet. I mean, have you met my family? We're all err on the
short-side, to put it nicely.
As far as I know, my family and my uncle's family are the only
people with the last name of Grows (ok, so Facebook and Google are my sources,
but let's be real, aren't they everyone's?) I don't know the origins of the
name, but I always figured that whenever and wherever my ancestors came from,
they were most likely farmers in our home country; so maybe when they came to
the U.S., the government just had their actual last name changed to
"Grows" to reflect their old job? (Grasping at straws here.)
Despite not knowing where it originates from, and its inaccurate
representation of my physical stature, I've always loved the name. I think the
name (as well as the verb) is one of the many reasons why I also love nature.
Things are planted, they grow. They grow and they grow and they become more
beautiful, fruitful, alive, and into the fullness of what they are with each
moment. Eventually, they die...but they are still growing up until the moment
of death. What a beautiful concept, a beautiful truth about life.
Of all the different types of nature, the tree has always been my
favorite. Its leaves are every size, design, and smell; they change color from
beautiful greens to fiery oranges and reds. Its trunks are thick, slim,
twisted, knobby, smooth, a great seat, a napping spot, a home base in the most
epic game of tag. Its branches are swings, steps closer to the sky, bear
delicious fruit and gorgeous flowers, are home to some cute (and some not so
cute) critters, and are a canopy for shade on a hot summer day. What fascinates
me the most though about trees are their roots. I confess, I'm no artist
(unless you count paint by numbers), but the one thing I love to draw are
trees, and I spend the bulk of my scant artistic ability trying to make the
roots as intricate as they really are. They are both big and small, go down far
deeper than we can see from above ground, stretch without being told to find
water, bring nutrients up from the soil to feed the rest of the tree; they root
the tree firmly to its foundation.
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| Tree taking root and growing out of Ta Prohm in Siem Reap, Cambodia. I visited the ancient temple in February 2014. |
I've been here a little over 9 months, and of all the things I
thought I'd be doing, how I had envisioned I'd spend my time serving, what I've
realized I've done the most, has been GROWing. Nope, still short, but growing
spiritually in ways I never imagined possible. Now this is going to sound
completely New-Age hippie granola, but the best way to describe what I've come
to realize the Father’s plan for my role here these past 9 months, was to be a
tree. Yep, a little ol’nutty tree. He knew what I had envisioned I’d be doing (outreach on a regular basis, working
in the bakery, mastering the language in 6 months...HILARIOUS!) and instead
decided that I was better suited to be a tree to my roommates and the ex-pat
community. This may come off as self-promotion, so please hear me when I say
that I only mean to promote God’s goodness that He’s planted in me. Every
opportunity and relationship I've been blessed with here has happened because
of His amazing grace.
When broken down to its most basic truth, I moved to Asia with the
intent to help people. Mission accomplished. I just didn't realize that the
people I’d be helping weren't the women on the streets (to clarify, we have done, and will continue to do outreaches),
but the main people I've been helping are in the community I was living with
and a part of. I ended up being leaves
to provide shade to my American roommates when they just needed to rest and take
a break from the blistering season they were coming out of. I was an extra
branch of support and helping hands to my Chinese roommate managing the bakery
so she wouldn't have to work extra shifts. I put roots down for the year to establish
relationships with people who have become so very near and dear to my heart; to
be an extra prayer warrior for the tough seasons, extra cheerleader for their
breakthroughs, extra smiling face to welcome visitors, and an extra side-dish
supplier at holidays and potlucks. Plus, I’m a nut, so there were moments of
(what I hope to be) comedic relief in an otherwise stressful place to live. While in this season of being a tree, God has
been my water source, providing nourishment when I was in seasons of droughts.
Jesus has been my covering, my canopy of shade, giving me rest and refresh. The
Holy Spirit has taken deep roots within my spirit and bore fruit from my
branches I didn't know I could produce.
I've grown each day more and more aware of my sin, my shortcomings,
my inadequacies, my weaknesses, my triggers. Even more so, I've grown in my
awareness of God, His Love for me, the powerful person I am because of Him, His
ease of covering all my sins, and His Joy in forgetting them. It would be a great privilege and honor to be
a tree to others for the rest of my life. But, even more so, I want for myself,
and for everyone, for God to be the
water, the wellspring of life. We would take comfort in the shelter of Jesus. The
Holy Spirit would root Himself so deeply in our lives that every decision we
choose to make is the best one because we are operating from out of Him. Yes
please and more of that!
“[Blessed is the man] like a
tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its
leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers.” Psalm 1: 3
“Whoever drinks of
the water that I (Jesus) will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that l give him will become in him
a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” John 4:14
