It looks like I’m pulling an all nighter to study for a Spanish test tomorrow, so why not take five minutes to write a little in English! 😉
I wasn’t planning on doing it, but I saw a tweet and figured, why not? So tonight’s word- roots.
I think of my first home. Well, the first home I remember. The new neighborhood had a gate, we had to ask the security guard if our minivan could come through. We pulled into the house with no walls. It was still being built, which meant there were nails all over the place. Which meant I forgot my shoes. My three year old feet had to be carried through the new house and through my new room. I had a hamster in that room. I got to paint it fun colors. I had a Cinderella bedspread. I sat on that bed and cried when I was suppose to be thinking about what I had done.
I think of roots and I think of home, my first home. But now my roots are different. They’ve grown and uprooted and grown some more. My roots don’t stay in one place and this earth, and I’m glad they don’t. I don’t want a Cinderella bedspread forever. My true roots began when I said that prayer, tears pouring from my eyes, and got called into a new Home. There is where my roots grow, and from there I will never be uprooted.