Are the roots dead?

It has been a hot, dry, early summer in the mid-west.  Very dry--so dry that the grass is brown and practically everything that is growing is stunted even if it is watered.

Psalm 143
Prayer for Deliverance and Guidance. 
A Psalm of David.

Hear my prayer, O Lord,
Give ear to my supplications!
Answer me in Your faithfulness, in Your righteousness!
And do not enter into judgment with Your servant,
For in Your sight no man living is righteous.
For the enemy has persecuted my soul;
He has crushed my life to the ground;
He has made me dwell in dark places,
like those who have long been dead.
Therefore my spirit is overwhelmed within me;
My heart is appalled within me.

I remember before this dry weather spell began, I planted a big bag of fertilized giant zinnia seeds which germinated almost immediately.  It was such a joy to see those healthy plants growing, and I breathed in an anticipation of gorgeous, green plants with beautiful flowers.  The colors would be an array and full of every kind of butterfly.

Eventually the upper 90 degree days began with a hot wind sucking the moisture away.  The rabbits found almost every baby zinia plant, and I could not blame them for finding something with moisture in it to eat.  My hope of color in the dog days of summer faded, and my mouth seemed as dry as the ground. 

The state of our land is like my soul.  I am in a dry and weary land--parched where a drink of cool water will seemingly be evaporated practically as I swallow it.  I run to Him and He comforts me.  I rest in Him and the chaos quiets down.  I remember my pain and look away for a moment where I am parched again just like the thunder storm's heavy rains leave no result on the cracked ground. 

And so my days are filled with running to Him over and over.  This is okay because He reaches down and touches my parched soul and lifts my head each time.   No condemnation from Him for grieving, but joy that I run to Him again and again.  He is all my strength and I trust in Him alone.

I remember the days of old;
I meditate on all Your doings;
I muse on the work of Your hands.
I stretch out my hands to You;
My soul longs for You, as a parched land.
Answer me quickly, O Lord, my spirit fails;
Do not hide Your face from me,
Or I will become like those who go down to the pit.
Let me hear Your lovingkindness in the morning;
For I trust in You;
Teach me the way in which I should walk;
For to You I lift up my soul.

Long before the zinnia seeds were 'on the list' to be planted this spring, I had begun transplanting perennials all around in my special "secret garden," which is just beyond our screened porch and back windows for us to enjoy.  A friend had said to me jokingly one day that a perennial plant isn't really planted permanately until it has been transplanted at least seven times.  For me this is probably half true! 

My "secret garden" is our youngest flower bed and, besides being weeded, it hasn't been touched much until last year.  My plan for this spring was to get it more like I want it--in other words, tall perennials not on the edges.  I was able to do so much work in it this early spring.  The weather was perfect, the transplants were doing so well.  It was an exciting feeling to actually accomplish something well.

Life doesn't always work out as we plan, and so for most of May the sun shone and I was not able to water the transplants regularly.  Fairly soon many of the transplanted perennials were drying up and it was too late to revive them.  They browned and shriveled into nothingness.  There is no memory of them at their new places except in my mind.  I continiue to water them because I learned long ago that a perennial's life is in the roots.

PERENNIAL:
1.lasting through a whole year
2.lasting for a very long time;enduring
3.having underground parts that live more than two years
PERENNIALLY:
1.abiding, continual, permanent, everlasting, eternal

Deliver me, O Lord, from my enemies;
I take refuge in You.
Teach me to do Your will,
For You are my God;
Let Your good Spirit lead me on level ground.
For the sake of Your name, O Lord, revive me.
In Your righteousness bring my soul out of trouble.
And in Your lovingkindness, cut off my enemies
And destroy all those who afflict my soul,
For I am Your servant.

Each perennial is planted, but you could not know this unless I showed you where they are.  Are the roots dead?  They sure do give that impression with no evidence of growth even though I continue to water them.  But I know the roots are there.  Even though I water, the roots are behaving like they are supposed to in a dry, and dusty land.  In the autumn or in the spring we will see new growth and the fruit of my early 2012 spring labor will be evident.

In my inner most person I am wounded beyond words where only the Holy Spirit can interpret for me to the LORD God on High.  He knows all about me even to my inner most being. 

Also in my inner most person is my hope and trust in the One and Only.  The One who is able to do far more than I can imagine continues to be permanent, and everlasting in me as I abide in Him.  He lives in me!  I am never alone even if I sometimes I forget momentarily about my roots. I don't have to wait a season to be revived for He is with me always and He lifts my head even if I forget in my deepest despair.

My soul longs for You, as a parched land...
For to You I lift up my soul.