"Though a tree grows tall, the leaves return to the root." ~Malay proverb

In one of our cars we have the luxury of satellite radio. I will not use this space for commentary on some of the inane things that cane be found on some of these stations. It is not a car I drive often, but when I do, I always turn it to the folk music station. This station plays everything from the traditional to the obscure songs that are considered the 'people's' music. Music that tells the stories of hardship, struggle, love, and war. Music that can be sung by large groups of school children and small circles of intimate friends nestled around a campfire. In this music you can hear where people came from, both the literal place and the political and faith home, in short what makes them 'tick'. The music always reflects the deep held values of the songwriter and, by association,the singer.

The show I was listening to contained a retrospective narrated by Pete Seeger. He was telling how the song 'This Land is Your Land' came to be a sort of national anthem for many, particularly school children. These children, as they grew into adults, had that song planted in them in a deep way, in some place where songs go to take root and inform who we are as people.It was interesting and enlightening to hear his wonderful voice, aged and wise from years of offering his songs to the world. At the end of the show, a radio voice interrupted with the tag line of the show:"Don't forget to water your roots." I laughed.

Roots. What a wonderful image! I thought about my own roots. I have roots that hold me to the earth that are my small town, southern Ohio roots…..the roots that grew me into an adult. Further back, I have the roots of my Welsh ancestors….roots that planted a love of music and poetry so deep it seeps out of my pores, when denied access to what nourishes them can send me into a depressing tailspin. I have my faith roots, born into a Christian household, baptized Presbyterian, defected to United Methodism….roots that tie me to the hope of the church,no matter how I might struggle with the institution at times. I have my Minnesota roots, those I forged when I moved here and ones that now hold my heart in place……roots that help to make me weep over the beauty of Lake Superior and the sound of a loon's call. I have the roots of my family, my friends….roots that remind me of the connections that will not desert me even when I might deserve to have backs turned, when I become too full of myself, too out of touch with what really matters. So many roots that needs to be watered.

What are your roots? Have you taken time to water them lately? It is important work. It is, I believe, our human work to remember where we came from as much as where we are going. It is this nurturing that provides our vision, our understanding of our place in the world, our commitment to making our lives and the lives of others somehow better. This weekend promises to be a hot, steamy one. It might be a good time to think about your roots, what needs watering, and to take time to nourish what lies at your root. The whole world may be the better for it.