Shortly after I was born, some family friends gave my parents a McIntosh apple tree. Their instructions were to plant the “Lindsay Macintosh” and watch as both tree and daughter grew.
I don’t know why I thought of the apple tree recently except that I've been thinking about the concept of rootedness. I think of rootedness as a deep sense of knowing who you are and where you belong.
I thought that living on a floating hospital ship would give me feelings of being uprooted and ungrounded (maybe unmoored would be a better word, since it's nautical and all). When asked where I am from--a frequent occurrence on the ship--what should I say? Am I from Minnesota, even though it never felt like home? Am I from Houston, even though I only ever lived there for several months over a summer’s break from college? Am I from Seattle, which was the last place I felt truly at home? I was born and raised in Idaho, but have no emotional connections there any more.
Where is home? I don't know.
But I do know that I am rooted and established in love...God's love. (Ephesians 3:17) In His love I know who I am and where I belong, regardless of where I put down physical roots. And that is enough.
As the Lindsay McIntosh tree grew, it eventually bloomed and bore fruit. I am thankful that in this season of life I too am in the stage of blooming and bearing fruit. God has been moving in my life, working in my heart when I thought all was barren, bringing me to a place of fruitfulness. God has shown me that he has a much larger plan for me than I could ever have dreamed for myself.
As I anticipate going back to the Africa Mercy to work in Togo and possibly South Africa, I am thankful for a God who chose me, called me by name, and scripted a unique role for me in his grand narrative of redemption.