The last few Sundays, the pastor at the church I recently started attending has been doing a sermon series entitled, “Rooted”. He’s talked about being rooted in the house (God’s house), being rooted in the word (God’s word), and being rooted in faith.

This has got me thinking a lot about roots in our lives–emotional, psychological, and physical. As a military wife, I don’t really get to put down physical roots, per se, because we never know when or where the military will send us next.

As I contemplated the sermons, one thought kept popping up again and again. Roots are necessary for a plant to develop, the anchor to what it is–and so it is with people. We talk about “getting back to our roots”, “learning about our roots”, etc. It all gets back to who/what we come from. Just like a seed comes from somewhere, so do we.

But what importance does our roots play in who we are now?

I come from a line of farmers, soldiers, and other blue collar workers. There aren’t many scientists, politicians, or the like in my ancestory. They are hard workers, dedicated to their professions. They know what it means to persevere, to fight. Blood, sweat, and tears are literally invested in their lives. What did that mean for me?

I was born with a tumor in my neck, which required a surgery that without I would die, but even with it, I would still have only a 50% chance to live. And afterwards, when I did live, the doctors were sure that I would be so mentally and physically handicapped that they wanted me placed in a state home that would be “better prepared” to handle my unique needs.

But I fought–and I persevered.

In high school, I put in the time and effort required to graduate in the top 10 of my class.

I had three difficult, high-risk pregnancies and delivered three wonderful, healthy babies.

I married a soldier, who, at times, is gone for long periods of time and when he is home, he can work long hours, sometimes even 24 hours shifts.

This list is not to brag about my accomplishments. This list is to show how my roots helped me in my life. How the family God blessed me with helped to mold and shape me into the woman I am today. Hard work, perseverance, sacrifice–they’re all hard-wired into my brain. God knew what I would need to survive this life, and He made sure I would have the kind of roots that would ensure that I would come out on top.

God knows what we need. He knew us before we were “formed in the womb” (Jer 1:5). He knows our history, the history of our ancestors, just as He knows the future. He prepared our past, our ancestory, to be the roots we have today.

What we go through now–what we do, the choices we make–will prepare the roots for our children and our children’s children. Like ripples in a pond, so our lives touch the next generation, no matter how big or small.

What about you? What are your roots? Do you see them working in your life?