My family moves around a lot. Please believe me that when I say a lot, I mean that in 15 years of marriage we’ve moved at least 15 times. Four states, three countries, and two continents–not that anyone’s counting. This summer we will be moving again – bringing our total to 4 countries and 3 continents.
We’ve nurtured a variety of things in our boys – a love of the nerdy and an appreciation for the mighty pun, to name a couple. But roots? I’m afraid not.
However, despite our willy-nilly existence we do have some constants, a couple anchors that keep us from getting lost at sea with our nomadic wanderings.
I know this isn’t for everyone, but I believe it helps our family immensely with all the transitioning we do. Adjusting to a new place is always tough, but add being the new kid at school every year and that just sounds torturous.
By the time our first born was in 3rd grade she had switched schools five times. Soon after that we decided to homeschool and we’ve never looked back.
Bed-time in particular is a sacred routine for our boys. They each have a small collection of stuffed animals that they sleep with. These are the only toys they own that are expressly theirs and not for sharing with brothers.
Most importantly, bed-time is when my husband reads to them. Everything from The Bible to The Chronicles of Narnia they have done a lot of reading – and inevitably – a lot of discussing in that last quiet hour of their day.
I realize that some or all of my boys may grow up and decide to plant reactionary roots by digging into a community and never leave it. And I am perfectly fine with that. If that’s what God calls them to, then by golly they should listen.
But I do hope that we’ve instilled in them a love of the world and an understanding that the best place to be is obeying the call that God puts on our life. And if they’re called to the far corners of the world?
Being rooted in the vine will sustain them when being planted in one place isn’t possible.