ROOTED AND GROUNDED
It is an absolute blessing to remember and remain connected to
one’s roots. The late Alex Haley, author of the classic slave narrative,
“Roots,” searched diligently for years to discover his African tribal
origins. Eventually, Mr. Haley landed in
the village of Juffure in The Gambia, West Africa. Through the oral
history of a griot, the village historian, Haley uncovered his ancestral
connection to Kunta Kinte, thereby affirming his own identity and place in
history.
[Note: During the mid-1700s, Kunta Kinte had been captured,
transported to Virginia (USA) and sold into a lifetime of chattel slavery].
The Word of God instructs us to be “rooted and grounded in love.”
(Ephesians 3:17) Since GOD is love,
this translates to remaining connected to HIM, and thereby to our truest and
noblest selves. (I John 4:8)
Consider the story of Latiff, the poorest beggar in his
village. Homeless, he slept each
night in front of a different house. His days were passed in the shade of
trees near the village square.
Nevertheless, as he w0uld partake of alms from compassionate passersby,
Latiff had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he were thinking deeply and
reflecting soberly on life. Although
he was dirt-poor, everyone loved him, and ironically, he was deemed by all to
be the wisest man in his village.
One sunny morning, the king appeared in the village square. Surrounded by guards, he strolled and examined the offerings of the marketplace. The king almost stumbled over Latiff, who was dozing happily in the shade of a stately oak. Someone informed the king that he was the poorest of his subjects, but one who was highly respected due to his vast knowledge and wisdom.
Intrigued, the king approached the beggar and said, “If you can answer my question correctly, I will give you this golden coin.” Eying the coin, Latiff replied casually, “You can keep the coin. What would I do with it anyway? Let’s hear your question.”
The king felt somewhat put off by Latiff’s response, but anyway asked a question that had been bothering him for weeks. It concerned a problem of goods and resources that his royal analysts had not solved. Latiff's response was both wise and creative. The king was quite surprised. He left the coin at the feet of this beggar and continued on his way, pondering his sage words.
One sunny morning, the king appeared in the village square. Surrounded by guards, he strolled and examined the offerings of the marketplace. The king almost stumbled over Latiff, who was dozing happily in the shade of a stately oak. Someone informed the king that he was the poorest of his subjects, but one who was highly respected due to his vast knowledge and wisdom.
Intrigued, the king approached the beggar and said, “If you can answer my question correctly, I will give you this golden coin.” Eying the coin, Latiff replied casually, “You can keep the coin. What would I do with it anyway? Let’s hear your question.”
The king felt somewhat put off by Latiff’s response, but anyway asked a question that had been bothering him for weeks. It concerned a problem of goods and resources that his royal analysts had not solved. Latiff's response was both wise and creative. The king was quite surprised. He left the coin at the feet of this beggar and continued on his way, pondering his sage words.
The next day, the king returned. This time, Latiff was resting in a nearby olive grove. Once more, the king posed a question, and Latiff answered rapidly and wisely. The king was surprised to be in the presence of so much intelligence. In an unexpected act of humility, he removed his sandals and sat down with Latiff.
“Latiff, I need you,” the king admitted. “I am overwhelmed by the decisions a king must make. I do not want to harm my people, and neither do I want to be an evil king. Please come to the palace to be my adviser. I promise you will want for nothing, you will be highly respected and you can leave whenever you want. Please come.” After thinking a few minutes, Latiff accepted the proposal of the king. That evening, he arrived at the palace and was assigned a luxurious room. His room was close to the king’s room and contained every imaginable amenity.
During the following weeks, consultation with the king became habitual. Every morning and evening, the monarch spoke with his new adviser on issues of the kingdom, and on personal or spiritual matters. Since Latiff always answered with clarity and precision, he became the favorite counselor of the king. Within three months, no decision was made by the ruler without first consulting his trusted adviser.
Their close relationship unleashed jealousy from others in the royal court. They saw this ‘beggar’ as a threat to their own influence. One day, several of them requested a private hearing with the king. With great care and gravity, they reported, “Your friend Latiff is obviously conspiring to destroy you.”
Saddened, the king replied, “I cannot believe it!”
“Then you must confirm it with your own eyes,” they continued. “Every evening at five o’clock, Latiff enters the south wing of the palace and heads into a darkened room. He is meeting someone secretly, and when we asked where he goes every evening, he gives only vague and evasive answers. His attitude suggests that there must be a conspiracy going on!”
The king felt defrauded and hurt, but he needed to confirm their bad report. That evening, precisely at five, he waited out of sight underneath the stairs. He saw Latiff approaching the wooden door, looking around, then quietly entering a darkened room. Accompanied by his guards, the monarch loudly struck the door. “Who is it?” Latiff asked from the inside. “It’s the king” he answered. “Open this door immediately!”
Latiff opened the door, but there was no one else inside. The room had no secret doors, no windows and no place where anyone could hide. Inside, there was only a worn out wooden plate, an old walking stick and a shabby tunic.
“Are you conspiring against me, Latiff?” the King demanded.
“Why would I do that, your majesty?” Latiff replied with surprise. “Six months ago, when I arrived, the only property I had was this tunic, plate and walking stick. Now I am so used to the beautiful clothes I wear, so comfortable with the bed that I sleep in and so honored by the respect and influence the king affords me, that I must come here every single day. I touch my old tunic to…REMEMBER…WHERE I CAME FROM.
My friend, as you progress in life, never forget to stay connected to your old tunic. Intimate connections with God and family are mission critical. So, never ever forget your roots.
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