I Am Planted

I am planted.

Not in soil alone,

but in the laughter of my children,

their small hands curling around mine,

their questions tumbling, never ceasing.

My husband stands beside me,

a tree of quiet strength,

a steady heartbeat.

He calms my restless limbs.

They are my roots, my anchor,

the earth that grounds me.

My roots are in the kitchen,

kneading bread,

sharing stories,

in the warm, morning light.

My roots are in the night,

splashing in the bath,

reading stories before bed,

soft prayers whispered in the night.

They ground me.

They remind me where I come from,

who I am called to be.

I reach upward.

Branches stretch beyond the familiar,

toward light, toward sky,

toward the quiet voice that whispers,

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened,

and I will give you rest”

Faith lifts me

into the highest branches

where sunlight illuminates hope and promise,

where I am more.

I carry their laughter in my heart,

and His words in my soul.

I am both rooted and reaching,

held and propelled.

Grounded in love,

Carried by grace.

I feel the tension of this life,

roots tangled in responsibility,

branches bending toward dreams.

Neither thrives without the other.

Every prayer I whisper for my children

is a branch toward heaven.

Every embrace, every shared meal,

a root burrowing deeper into love.

I grow

in patience, in humility, in strength.

Some days I am shaken,

storms rattle my leaves,

but my roots hold,

my branches still reach above.

My family grounds me.

My God carries me.

And in this sacred balance,

I bloom.

Whole and alive.

I am a living testament

to love that holds,

and grace that lifts.

To remaining grounded

while pushing forward.