Last Friday, my mom called 911. She was having trouble breathing, much more trouble than usual. She’s 80, and she has COPD. Her already weak lungs were compromised by viral pneumonia. She is recovering slowly, feeling the limitations of her body. We are in a new season, a season I would never choose for her, a season of loss. Loss of independence. Loss of control. Loss of even breath. We are bumping around in the dark. Praying and feeling our way through. Trusting we will find God present with us, even as God is present (IN) us. Maybe, like me, you’re feeling your way through a dark space in life. If so, I offer you (and me) some words from rooted (IN).