As a child, I loved to swim. Our family had a “Doughboy” pool in the backyard and I would literally spend hours swimming every day. I didn’t swim really well, but since my feet could touch the bottom of this pool, I never cared much to learn how.
As a teenager, I had a fear of the ocean. My friends and I would go to the beach, and I remember sitting in the sand watching as my friends swam in the ocean. One day, they convinced me to go rafting with them at the beach. We got into the raft, too many of us, and got taken under by the tide. I wasn’t wearing a life jacket. When I hit the water, I couldn’t breathe. The current took me out a little ways. When I finally managed to get to the top, I had no concept of where I was. I could see the beach, and a few of my friends, waving at me to swim back. But I couldn’t swim well. So I did the only thing I knew how, I laid on my back and kicked myself to shore.
In my season of rest, I feel as if I am navigating deeper waters. As the Lord calls me to a deeper place in Him, sometimes I am overwhelmed by the magnitude of the water. At times, it’s hard to breathe. As I surrender it all into His hands, I find myself laying on my back, allowing myself to drift toward the shore. I am learning to embrace the quiet. I am learning that God truly is enough for me. And in the magnitude of the laying down of self, I am thankful that no water is too deep that the love of God cannot conquer.
I miss writing here, but I am thankful for the glimpses of His love and sprinkles of His grace that He allows me to share with you.
I’ll be back!
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