Two years ago my brother planted some trees on his property where he lives on the coast of Washington State. On my visits there I have looked at these trees with great hope for their lives. But over the past two years, I've seen little change. In my longing for them to grow, I have wondered, are you real? Are you alive?
In May, I visited again. The trees are the same size, but they are not the same. For the first time, I can tell they are on their way to the sky. Their tree bodies are different ... something about their color and the shine of their young needles. Their tap roots have finally found water. It changes everything.
In order to thrive, our tap root must find water. There must be an open route between my soul and the source of life. Without it, I will wither. I cannot grow. I will stay small.
I just finished leading a Stillpoint Spiritual Journey class. It is an eight-month journey in tap root work. Living in a rhythm of silence, prayer and sharing, we dig deep into our stories and what we understand God’s presence to be. We read and write together, and we learn the careful craft of listening deeply to God, self, and to each other. At our final class, we all looked the same as when we began, but we were not the same. On our journey, we each tapped into the living water. We are a little sturdier, and our needles a little shinier.
I am already looking forward to next year’s class which will begin in September. I wonder if you know someone who is ready to go deeper in their spiritual journey. I hope you will encourage them to consider this care for their soul.