I partly paid my way through college by working a job on the grounds crew. In the Georgia heat I learned about the pain of fire ant bites, the strength of kudzu that can only be hacked back with a machete, and I learned that sometimes plants can become root bound.
I have always loved gardening since I was little, but I rarely knew what I was doing. On that college grounds crew I began to add wisdom to my experience. As we were putting plants in the ground, the woman next to me explained that we had to do something a little counterintuitive. We had to break up the roots.
In my mind, roots were to be treated gently. A big ball of roots must mean this is a healthy plant and we should just set it in the ground. But this woman taught me that those roots will continue to grow in on themselves, choking the life out of the plant and limiting its ability to grow new roots that could anchor it safely in the ground or help it access the water it needs. The most gracious thing we can do for the plant is to gently rip those roots apart so they can branch out and grow.
I think about this every year as I put new plants in the ground. And every year I think about how I see this same strategy in my parenting.
My kids have grown up in a home that has kept them safe. They are sheltered in lots of ways from the realities of the broader world. I am careful about the music they listen to, the movies they watch, the friends they play with, and the places we go. Their lives are a routine of school, church, home, piano lessons, YMCA sports, repeat. But as they get older, I am intentionally, gently ripping those roots open just a little bit so these kids can thrive.
They are learning to do things on their own. They are navigating conflicts with friends while I offer wisdom, but don’t fix it for them. They are learning to cook and do laundry. They are having to learn to make some of their own choices about entertainment as we look up ratings and content warnings together. They are developing self-advocacy skills as they speak with teachers about their own concerns or needs. They are developing relationships with friends who may not have the same values as our family and we’re talking through how to handle the places where those values don’t overlap. I am equipping them to meet the challenges of the world, not keeping them out of this challenging world.
Some days it would be easier to leave these kids in their little root bound worlds. I’d like to pretend that if we don’t talk about things like porn and drugs and abuse and conflict then maybe those things will never touch them. Maybe I can protect them forever. But I know it isn’t true.
I know there was a time when that little pot that grew their healthy roots was so necessary. They needed that safety, that structure, those boundaries in order to be able to grow and thrive. But as they get older and I look to plant them in the world where they can become a beautiful flowering tree that provides shelter for others and can stand against the winds of the world, I know it starts with roots. It starts with a home where they are safe and loved and know what to expect. And then it takes a parent gently prying open their own hands to release these roots into the earth. It takes teaching them where to find support and nurture not just in our home, but beyond it– in our church, in our community, in extended family, in those who will help guide them when my days of directly parenting them are over.
I’ve watched root bound plants wither. I’ve watched them shrivel up when they couldn’t reach the water they needed, when they kept living life as though they were stuck in that pot. Those aren’t the kinds of kids I want to raise. I want them to branch out, even when it’s scary. I want them to learn to be okay with change and to trust that God will be whenever they go, even if Mom is not.
I don’t want to raise kids who only know how to function in the little pot they’ve grown accustomed to. I want to raise kids who spread their roots wide, providing stability for those around them. In order to do that, I have to break their roots. I can’t raise root bound kids if I want them to reach the world around them. As scary as it is for the gardener, the best chance for life and health means setting them free to grow, trusting that we’ve done the best job we can giving them a healthy start.
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