Back in the summer of 2016, a lady from our church received an honourary Degree of Arts for the work she has done in Fort St John.
Our pastor recognized her accomplishment, and asked her to share a little during the church service. As she came to the front and told her story, I sat fixated on what she said.
She spoke of how she’d arrived in our town a few decades ago, and was greeted by dirt roads and wooden sidewalks. (Our people have a lot of complaints about this town, but at least that’s improved!) Yet she knew that this would be home. Because before she departed for Fort St John, her father had left her with these words:
“Grow where you’re planted.”
And she followed his advice.
Grow: that’s a verb. It doesn’t imply sitting around and wishing things were better. As a plant grows, it takes in nutrients, reaches towards the light, and sends its roots down. It expands and does its best with what it’s given.
This lesson hasn't been an easy one for me. After traveling the world, and all the amazing places I've seen, settling down in Northern British Columbia was not my idea of a great life. I never felt at home here, and I long believed I never would.
But this is where I've been planted. And this is where I want to grow well. Not haphazardly. Not begrudgingly. With intention and strength.
So I took the message to heart, and applied myself to accepting - no, creating - a home here.
Two years later, and I can look back with gratitude for that decision. I've married and started a family. I've involved myself with a local Christian missions event. I'm caring for and updating our church's library. I've even volunteered for my community's gardening committee. Each decision has grown me in a new way, planted my roots here deeper - and, I hope, made a difference in this little corner of the world.
