Prepare To Be Transplanted

"Some living things resent transplanting," states one gardening writer. 

Oh, really? Was this meant to be sarcastic? Inserting humor into a bland subject? Or entirely serious as one might be about their area of expertise, not considering the metaphoric application to us human beings? Author Gunilla Norris writes more poetically-- "lacking courage to be replanted, to take the shock of the new soil, to feel into the unknown and take root in it."

Serious gardening advice or poetic philosophy aside Prepare to be Transplanted has been a personal lesson over 9 years in the making. Knowing my propensity to see things outdoors via nature, God provided a practical gardening application; I just didn't take it to be a lesson for me for almost a decade. So typical.
It was a scrawny azalea plant on the ignored side of our driveway. Armed with some nutritious formula for transplanting, a spade, and some interest in seeing this azalea survive, I began the process. The instructions were for a six week process. Cut a circular line with the spade digging down all around the plant, creating a bit of a trench and water with the nutritious formula. Wait a week. Cut the circle again. Water again with nutritious formula. Wait another week. Repeat for another four weeks. Then the scrawny azalea could be transplanted. There is reasoning behind this process. Come to find out that azaleas are one of those living things that resent transplanting. Surprise, surprise. Azalea roots also like to spread out far and wide. All that digging down in a circle is root-pruning, stimulating roots to focus their growing closer to the center. If not root-pruned the plant is more likely to die of shock when moved. So I gave it the six weeks. It wasn't time consuming or difficult so I invested in the process, awaiting the time for the healthy transplant.
Well, as life happens... I never moved that azalea. We moved instead. I got busy with the selling and packing and after the six weeks I just left it where it was. Funny thing though... by the time I moved away that azalea wasn't so scrawny anymore and had now made its side of the driveway look rather inviting. I thought-- how wonderful that preparing to be transplanted can be as good for a plant as actually following through with moving it to a new location. That's when I started to see a lesson in this for other living things that resent transplanting, other living things that lack courage to be uprooted and replanted--like people, like me.
But hey, I was already packed up and moving out. Mission accomplished. No root-pruning needed. Tuck it away for some other day or some other person. Onward to new soil--setting up a new home!
Nine years pass.
Our home is up for sale as of yesterday.
We have moved a lot, so this shouldn't seem out of the ordinary. Only, it is. We do not have to sell this home we love. This has been home to me longer than anywhere else in my life. The treasure of memories here is vast. No job is requiring us to relocate.
After four years of extensive travel and living away we had returned to reclaim life in our home. We had given ourselves several months to rest, reconnect with family and friends, take road trips, organize & purge our belongings and to seek God's direction for the future. We felt on track with everything except the pesky organizing & purging process-- that was painfully slow.
God pressed in with the inexplicable, but undeniable impression that we should sell our home. This was a stretch for us.
Getting the house ready for sale has taken over two months now, quite longer than anticipated. Repairs, both minor and major were needed, of course. The major mountain to climb was the amount of 'stuff' we had yet to sort through--which was overwhelming and embarrassing to me. Room after room, closet after closet, cupboard after cupboard, container after container... after container. How did this happen?
Root-pruning. Rather, lack thereof. Ouch.
For many months my journal has been dotted with notes that refer to the prepare to be transplanted lesson.  Every entry on the subject says in one way or another-- write it down. WRITE IT DOWN.
My roots in this home had spread farther and wider than I realized. Preparing our home for sale and moving had finally forced me to subject myself to root-pruning. Week after week the spade cut peripheral roots. Reminding me of "throwing off everything that hinders.." Week after week, forcing me to focus closer to the center and "seek first the Kingdom of God..." Week after week, I, along with my home have been nourished in this preparation process.
We have pronounced ourselves ready for new soil. The For Sale sign is up. The listing is active.
Yet, like that azalea plant we may not actually move. Is it time for our healthy transplant? That is the question and the lesson. Be willing to go. Be willing to stay. Become better for the obedience of being prepared.
What God has planned for my home and for me remains to be seen.
1 John 3:2 "... it has not yet been revealed what we shall be..." CS Lewis comments on these words saying, "Our natural inclination is to be so precise--trying always to forecast accurately what will happen next--that we look on uncertainty as a bad thing." He speaks of Gracious Uncertainty, which sounds like a worthy goal, but a tall order.
For that tall order I am endeavoring. Will I be transplanted in regards to location or circumstance? Will my new soil be found as I live right where I am or in a totally new location? Lord, let me feel into this unknown graciously, taking root wherever You set me next. Oh yes, and let me stay mindful of the need for root-pruning.

I have now heeded my own words to write down this lesson. Check.
The first showing of our home is tomorrow...