I am a seed.

Just so you know what you are about to get into, this is about trees.

Rather, seeds and planting and basically a horticulture lesson...sorta.

As some of you may know, or maybe you don't, I moved to Tulsa. Hey, hi, hello from Tulsa which is in Oklahoma for those who are geographically challenged. Like myself, so no shade. As of about four and a half months ago, I was uprooted and am learning to call Tulsa home.

I would have considered myself a pretty sturdy tree. My roots were deep into the concrete soil of College Station. I had been there for 5 years.

In tree life, that means my roots were deep.

A tree's roots take about 6 months to a year to reach the water table at which point they continue to grow horizontally rather than just vertically.

Overall it takes about a year for a tree to fully establish its roots.

My roots were DEEP.

5 years deep.

Okay now bear with me all you non-sciency people.

When you relocate a tree, it can take at least one year to start growing again after transplanting. However, some trees may need up to five years to fully recover.

According to the trusty Lowe's: "Transplanting mature trees and shrubs is possible, although the process isn't as simple as planting new ones."

Okay so as you can maybe tell, I am a tree.

I was relocated.

And according to science, it is going to take about 1-5 years to fully recover...

Tough.

I am not the most patient of people.

In my attempt at relocation, I have been blessed to have some of my roots take hold quite early. Every Tuesday night from 7 pm - 9 pm I gain more depth in the Tulsa soil with a group of pretty normal trees. Trees of all ages that get together and laugh, worship, read the bible, and pray together.

Life group. It is truly a family of Jesus Trees.

My roots are thriving.

Jesus has perfect attendance and is present at every meeting. He shows up, teaches, and guides all of us.

As a family, not only do we play together, but the Holy Spirit exercises his sweet gift of conviction quite often. And I get called out quite frequently.

It is a family after all and it wouldn't be honest and true without a little bit of kind encouragement.

Recently, we communed over sweet strawberry pie, decaf coffee, and cookies. We talked about what it looks like to walk in obedience. Specifically to recognize the land and resources the Lord has given us and not only use them but expand them.

Isaiah 54:2-3

“Enlarge the place of your tent,

    and let the curtains of your habitations be stretched out;

do not hold back; lengthen your cords

    and strengthen your stakes.

3 For you will spread abroad to the right and to the left,

    and your offspring will possess the nations

    and will people the desolate cities."

After our DBS (discovery Bible Study) we are given time to sit and talk to Jesus about the verses we read. As I was talking to him he showed me a picture. One that I described to you, a picture of a tree.

I was a strong and rooted tree only to be dug up and relocated. The questions I had started to flow close behind the picture I was given.

I had written in my journal:

"How do I plant deep roots here?"

"What can I be doing to be grounded?"

An answer from the Lord came pretty quickly. --> Stop complaining.

Ha. See? Kind encourangement and reprimand.

But truly, I did need it. And as he often is, he was right.

As I sat with these questions a little longer the picture of this perfectly fine tree being uprooted started to build into resentment and frustration.

Why uproot a tree that was thriving? It was well-nourished and in great soil. No need for relocation.

Time up.

My life group leader ripped me from my internal spiral of questioning and it was time to move on. The next thing we do in life group is to pair up and ask for and receive prayer.

My mind still full of roots and trees, I grabbed one of the girls in my life group whom I felt like the Lord wanted me to sit with.

As we sat cozy and snug, side by side, on the oversized loveseat, I released my mind's scrabble of thoughts to her.

I didn't tell her right away about how I was a tree, uprooted, and what felt like dying.

I did tell her that I wanted to figure out how to get through this hard season without complaining.

She sat.

And listened.

And sweetly responded.

"Hope, you are dying to yourself. You are daily dying. Sometimes we go through seasons where we die to ourselves once a month, and sometimes it's every hour of every day."

With an exasperated sigh, I responded; Yeaaaaaahhhhhhhhh.

I then told her about the tree. About me being a tree. About my roots and how they were ripped up and relocated.

And get this.

She looked at me and said;

"Hope, you are not a tree. You are a seed."

One thing about writing is that you can't see my face right now but imagine a confused 'huh' complete with furrowed brows and a gaping mouth.

A seed.

No way. I was a strong tree with awesome roots.

Sweetly, because there is no other way to describe this sweet girl in my group, she continued;

"Sometimes it's easier to grow a seed from scratch than relocate a whole tree."

Now imagine a lightbulb going off right above my head and a verbal 'oh my gosh.'

Let's go back to Lowe's for a second. "Transplanting mature trees and shrubs is possible, although the process isn't as simple as planting new ones."

It isn't as simple as planting new ones.

I am a baby seed.

Not a tree.

How about that knocking me down a couple of pegs?

Now my friend could see what she had said had hit a cord and immediately said, "That was not me. I don't even know where that came from. That was the holy spirit." See, told you Jesus taught and led life group. That's what happens when you have perfect attendance.

So, I am a seed.

Not this awesome oak or willow that has been ripped out of the earth and shoved into a new home. But a wee little baby seed. Planted carefully in new soil. In a new garden with a watchful gardener that is set out to provide anything I could ever need to not only grow but to thrive.

Back to Lowe's:

"Germination takes two to 10 days, depending on the seed."

Also, seeds need WAY more attention and care than a mature tree does.

"Feed weekly with a liquid soluble plant food diluted to quarter strength."

"Wait to transplant seedlings into the garden until the danger of frost has passed."

"Ease the transition from indoor to outdoor conditions by hardening off seedlings."

Like wow. That's a lot of work and care.

I am SO a seed. HAH. I need a lot of work and care here.

*Also, side note: "Optimal conditions are 85°F day, 70°F night with diffuse light and high moisture."

I can agree with this statement 100%.

Big sun girl over here.

Okay, horticulture lesson over.

While my roots are new and fragile, they are at least growing. As I said, I am not the most patient person and that has been a consistent lesson the Lord has kindly taught me over the years, especially through this move.

With this humbling enlightenment of being a seed and not a tree, I feel not only closer to my gardener but also slightly more equipped for the hardships to come.

I told my friend who helped reveal this to me "I'm fighting for my life out here." Hah.

And it's true. I am.

But at least I have someone protecting me.

---

I'll leave you with this. Whether you are a tree with mile-deep and wide roots, or just a tiny seed recently laid to reset in the dirt, we are all out here just fighting for our lives.

To quote Olivia Rodrigo "Man, it's brutal out here."

It is.

But that is what we are called to do. To die to ourselves.

Now hear me and know it is NOT easy. Even as this has been revealed to me there will be days when I will not die to myself and find that I am yet again viewing myself as a big ol tree. I mean it's literally called dying. Dying hurts.

Now here it comes. The Bible verse that hopefully helps in understanding this act of dying to self.

Luke 9:23

23 And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. 24 For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.

So we are in fact dying to ourselves not that we may lose everything and just die to die. But die so that He will save everything. We will gain everything.

How sweetly contradictory.

My life group talks a lot about hopeful expectation. I think I might have been putting some expectation in death being easy.

It's not.

And that is not what that verse says. But rather that we will gain everything by dying. Not that dying is easy.

That is what I want to hopefully expect.

– Encouragement from a lil seed just trying to take root.